S H A T T E R E D
by Prin Pardus
Summary: Shards come together to form a whole, cats come together to create a Clan, lives come together to form a story.
1. P r o l o g u e

**P **_r o l o g u e_

"_Every cat has a story to tell; every cat has the story of their life, you see? And no story is more important than another. Take this, for example: one kit dies at birth. His brother goes on to take over his Clan and seize power, become a tyrant, only to die alone and lost after being cast out of his Clan. Is the first story any worse than the second, simply because it is shorter? Is the second any less a story, simply because of the path the cat took? No. All stories are equal, and all stories matter, just as every cat in a Clan matters. That is what you must understand, my dear; just as every story, no matter how short, is important, so is every cat, no matter how young. It takes all kinds to create a Clan; that is what keeps our Clan strong._

"_Cats come together to create a Clan, just as lives come together to create a story."_

Her father's words rang in her head, bringing with them memories, short flashes of images and scents, painful and brief. Her mother on the ground, her lifeblood pooling around her…her father, wheezing and drowning within his own lungs…her Clan dwindling by the day, as sickness and the weight of battle killed them one by one….They were all that was left, the three of them, three young warriors out on their own. How were they supposed to build a Clan?

_I promised my mother I would, when she came to me the night my father died and BirchClan fell, _she thought, _but it was just a promise then, not a reality. Now that we're out here alone…I don't know what I can do, where I can go. How am I supposed to build a Clan? Father was grooming me to be his own deputy's deputy, I always knew that…I was his only daughter, after all. But still, I just don't think I'm ready, for this…._

She felt Ravenwing shift beside her, and she moved her own weight to allow Ravenwing to be comfortable. The fox den was cramped, but it was the only place they had found that allowed them to hide in the forest; the scent of foxes would ward away any of FrozenClan's cats.

She let out a quiet sigh and rose to her paws, padding out of the den to stare up at the stars.

_How many of my Clan is up there? _she wondered. _How many of us died because of Northstar's ambition?_

She closed her eyes, letting out a quiet sigh. As far as she knew, all of her Clan was in StarClan now, along with every cat in ShellClan and MarshClan that didn't defect to FrozenClan in exchange for their lives. She knew no proud warrior of BirchClan would ever join Northstar in his mad pursuit of taking over their forest. How could StarClan let this happen? How could StarClan allow one Clan to rule both the forest and the mountains?

_We did something wrong, allowing Frozenstar to create his Clan, _she thought. _That must be it. We should have never shared our Clan ways with those wild mountain cats; it was wrong, and we're being punished for it. That's the only explaination._

She wasn't convincing herself, and she knew it; sometimes she just had to give herself up to a higher power, or accept that even the higher powers didn't always control everything themselves. Northstar shaped his own destiny…didn't he?

A gentle breeze stirred her fur, and she thought she caught the faintest scent of ash, or smoke. She frowned; there hadn't been a fire in moons, had there?

_Shards come together to make a whole, cats come together to make a Clan, lives come together to make a story,_ a voice whispered in her ear. She turned suddenly, blinking, but there was no one there.

"StarClan?" she whispered. "Is that you? Are you telling me what I must do?"

Her mother had come to her the night her father died and her Clan fell, to tell her that it was her destiny to rebuild BirchClan. And now someone was contacting her again, with the same message…she couldn't ignore it. StarClan was still watching over her, still guiding her paws.

She lifted her muzzle, and the breeze caressed her face again, carrying the gentle scent of ash with it, and then away.

She turned back, and nudged her two comrades. Frostfeather and Ravenwing opened their eyes slowly, and then blinked at her with the same green eyes.

"Frostfeather, Ravenwing, do you remember what I told you when we fled the Clan?" she asked.

"You said we were going to rebuild BirchClan, right?" Ravenwing said softly.

"I don't see what that has to do with waking us up in the middle of the night, though, Silverstreak," Frostfeather yawned. Silverstreak smiled at them both.

"At first I thought StarClan just meant in the future, that we should flee to safety before we started…but I think they meant on our way. We're sure to meet plenty of cats, and we'll have to cover a lot of territory before we find our new home…but I'm certain StarClan will be with us."

Ravenwing smiled at her. "We followed you because we trust you, Silverstreak," she purred. "We'll do whatever you say."

"As long as it isn't completely mouse-brained," Frostfeather laughed, nudging Silverstreak playfully. "I assume we'll be leaving in the morning, so shouldn't we get some rest?"

"Actually, I think we should stick around a bit; there have to be survivors somewhere, we should attempt to find them and help them."

Frostfeather yawned again. "Fine, fine, can we get some rest now?"

Silverstreak's whiskers twitched. "Rest, my friends. We'll need all our strength, yes."

Frostfeather yawned a third time, settling down in her nest beside her sister. The two of them were soon asleep again, but Silverstreak remained awake, gazing at the stars.

_Is this where my destiny lies?_

**AN: Alright, sooo I'm pretty excited about this one. It's basically a revision of some role-play I did a long time ago; FrozenClan and BirchClan are pretty much the original CascadeClan and CinderClan, cha. **

**This story will be different from most of my others; the last few were mainly third person limited, but this'll be third person omniscient; we'll switch POVs each chapter, never the same one in a row. I've got plenty of characters to pick at~**

**Also, as an added bonus, I'm gonna try and keep my timelines straight, ha.**


	2. C h a p t e r 1: Northstar

**AN: I think the pattern for chapters will be Silverstreak – Other cat – Silverstreak – Other cat, etc. In other words, Silver will occupy every other chapter, but we'll fill in the space in-between with a different cat.**

**Such as this one~**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**1: Northstar**

He ate the hare slowly, careful to pull the meat from the bones easily, surprised by how tender the hare was. Mountain hares were tough and stringy from their hard lives, but forest hares were quite different. The tender meat seemed to melt in his mouth, and he smiled.

"Northstar?" a voice asked hesitantly. Northstar raised his head, blinking slowly. He licked the hare's blood from his white coat, and rumbled,

"Come in."

A slim tortoiseshell padded into the den, looking slightly nervous. Northstar opened his mouth, catching a whiff of MarshClan scent. She was a defector, then, it would appear. She was one of the cowards who had fled MarshClan and gone to FrozenClan as a warrior, rather than be slaughtered. Perhaps she was even the spy who had told him of Shadestar's timely death, so he could launch his forces while the idiot Brownfur was away? It appeared that Brownfur had fled as well; there was no sign of the cat who should have led MarshClan, but that was fine. Brownfur had never been a remarkable cat; she was probably cowering somewhere, watching as Northstar's forces took over her forest.

He blinked, realizing he had become lost in his thoughts. "Report," he ordered. The tortoiseshell sat down, still looking anxious.

"We scented a few strange cats in MarshClan; maybe our missing Brownfur cat, and another cat that somehow got away," the tortoiseshell said slowly. "They're fleeing, though."

"Let them run," Northstar said dismissively. "If they're running, then they'll offer no resistance as we sweep over their forest." His eyes narrowed slightly at the tortoiseshell; was it possible she had allowed her Clanmates to escape? He made a mental note to take more care arranging patrols; cats shouldn't go to their old territories until they had proven their worth.

The tortoiseshell looked terrified, as if she was afraid her muzzle was going to be clawed off for letting him know that cats had escaped. Northstar smiled at her warmly.

"What is your name?" he inquired.

"P-Poppyfur," she stammered, and he nodded.

"Continue, Poppyfur."

"ShellClan has no escapees or survivors, except their leader, again...it would appear that Silverstar fled the forest."

"Like a coward," Northstar laughed. "It seems all of our leaders are cowardly, hmm? Or else desperately hoping to start some sort of uprising and free their cats..." He smirked. "Silverstar's practically an elder; he and Fadedstar were well past their young days. I'm surprised Silverstar isn't dead after all; from what I heard, he had the forest-sickness as well. Pity he didn't die of it, like Shadestar and Fadedstar...still, it's fine." Northstar's tail flitted over his muzzle contemplatively. "Still, every cat in ShellClan besides Silverstar has been accounted for, yes? Every cat that joined us and the bodies of every other that did not?"

Poppyfur nodded, and Northstar smiled.

"Funny, how ShellClan was the only Clan we didn't have a spy in, and yet we seem to have taken more of their cats than any other," he meowed. "ShellClan was a prideful bunch, but they were smart; better to live to fight again another day than to die...And BirchClan? That is the most important Clan of all, the final Clan we took." He remembered the battle, and a smile curled his muzzle. Only yesterday it had been, when the new leader had attempted to keep his Clan's morale up even after Fadedstar had died, but they had crumbled before the force of three Clans combined, under Northstar's command. It had been a most invigorating battle; BirchClan still put up quite a fight, but they were outmatched.

"W-we lost the most with them," Poppyfur answered, trembling. "Eaglestar disappeared, but we think he isn't fleeing, just hiding. And then, three of BirchClan's warriors were apparently missing before the battle even began; they slipped out the night that Fadedstar died, the day before the battle took place."

"Don't call him Eaglestar," Northstar said first. "He greeted his Clan the morning after Fadedstar died; he didn't have his nine lives, that much is certain. Who were the other three warriors?"

"Silverstreak, Frostfeather, and Ravenwing," the tortoiseshell answered. Northstar's dark eyes narrowed.

"Daughter of the leader, and her two cronies," he said slowly. "Now, why would Fadedstar's daughter leave before he had even died? They were very close, that much is certain; he was grooming her to become Eaglestrike's deputy when he became Eaglestar. Silverstreak was always reported to be a loyal cat, fiercely defending her Clan, as were the two others...especially Frostfeather, that she-cat was no coward. So why run, unless they knew the battle was already lost..." Northstar frowned, lost in thought. "We must find them," he decided. Poppyfur's ears flattened; Northstar saw she looked exhausted, and he smiled at her again.

"Rest," he meowed to the former-MarshClan warrior. "You've done well, scouting the territories. You and the cats on your patrol should simply rest for now; tell Crowtalon he should set up hunting patrols to find the BirchClan cats; they're the most important to find. Then, you should all grab a piece of fresh-kill and simply rest. You've done your work."

Poppyfur seemed shocked by the warmth in Northstar's voice. "T-thank you!" she meowed, quickly leaving the den. Northstar laughed under his breath. It was simple, really; to keep the new cats trust, to win them over, a little kindness was needed. Fear would come later, but for now he didn't want any revolts, while his control over the new FrozenClan was still delicate. He had cats from all four Clans to rule over now; if he wasn't careful, he'd be impaled upon his own claw.

He needed to be especially weary of battle; Northstar still did not have his nine lives. To seize power from his father, Northstar had done some things StarClan would not approve of; to prove himself a leader to them before he went to FourPool and earned his nine lives, Northstar had continued his father's crusade to take over the forest. Only, where Frozenstar had failed, crafty Northstar had succeeded. Who in StarClan could refuse him as a leader now?

Northstar studied the hare's bones between his paws. FrozenClan cats ate the marrow from the bones as well, to keep themselves alive, but he was already feeling full after just one forest hare; remarkable, really.

Northstar picked up the delicate skull in his jaws and crushed it, releasing the animal's spirit as had been mountain-cat custom for years, before the Clans had appeared.

And with that, his meal was finished.

. . .

"I'm going to FourPool tonight," Northstar announced to his deputy. Crowtalon blinked at him with surprise.

"Why do you need to speak with StarClan?" the black tom inquired. Northstar smiled.

"Leader business, not deputy business," Northstar replied, and although his tone almost sounded cheery, there was a veiled threat that Crowtalon understood.

"Yes, sir," Crowtalon dipped his head. "I'll keep an eye on things here, don't you worry. Nothing will escape my sight."

Northstar nodded, his gaze sweeping over FrozenClan's camp. It was swollen almost to bursting with new cats; the network of tunnels simply couldn't handle this many cats in one place. Northstar made a mental note to take care of the space problem later.

He padded to the main cave's entrance, allowing the mountain's chilling breeze to touch his fur, blinking up at the sky. The barest sliver of moon was rising into the sky; last night had been the new moon, after all. Northstar shrugged his shoulders, ruffling his fur for warmth, before he began padding down the steep slope.

The forest cats had complained of aching, scraped paws. Northstar understood this; the rough rock scratched the paws of cats that had even been born in the mountains. The forest cats would soon toughen up, but it would put a strain on the abilities of their medicine cat, to keep the medicine den stocked for so many cats. Northstar had made sure that his new Clan had only one medicine cat, FrozenClan's; the other medicine cats had been killed in battle, whether they wanted to join FrozenClan or not. Northstar couldn't allow enemy medicine cats into his new Clan, after all; they could 'see' a sign from StarClan to start a revolt, for example, or poison FrozenClan warriors with their herbs, or any number of things.

Northstar hadn't actually done the killing himself, though; that would anger StarClan. Lower warriors had done the dark deeds, and it was their souls that would be put in jeopardy, not his own.

He smiled to himself, feeling the gentle breeze touch his fur again. Then, his eyes narrowed as he caught the slightest scent of ash. He opened his mouth, letting the scent flood in, but the ash still remained faint, elusive.

_Being on cunning doesn't make you a leader, _a voice seemed to whisper in the wind. _How are the lives you've taken any less important than your own?_

Northstar stiffened, bristling. "Who's there?" he snarled, his dark eyes darting around, but not a single cat showed themselves. Northstar flexed his powerful muscles and leaped down to a lower rock, twisting his head to look around him. Still, there was no one, only the faintest scent of ash, despite the forest not having had a true fire in years.

Northstar lashed his tail, feeling uneasy.

_Your paws will guide you to a higher place, _the voice came again. Northstar flinched and turned, but the only thing greeting him was rock. _You must become lower yourself, to understand how high you can go._

"Who's saying that?" Northstar spat, unsheathing his claws. "Show yourself!"

The wind only whistled, before suddenly halting its wandering, leaving the mountains cold and silent. Northstar stared up at the sky, where the stars twinkled and a sliver of moon blinked down at him.

_Was that StarClan? _He wondered. _But why contact me now, when I'm going to see them and earn my nine lives? Was it some sort of prophecy? I don't understand…._He closed his eyes, shivering, and then realized that the scent of ash had faded. Had the wind somehow blown it from another forest, past the mountains? Or had he simply imagined it?

Northstar shivered, although his thick pelt kept him warm even on the coldest nights. What was going on?

For a moment, he almost considered retreating, going back to camp and telling Crowtalon some lie. The fool would believe anything, and follow Northstar without question; it was why Northstar had picked him as a deputy in the first place. That, and the flashes of cunning and strength Crowtalon sometimes showed; keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and all that.

But going back would be admitting weakness, if not to FrozenClan, then to himself. And that was one thing Northstar wouldn't tolerate.

Crouching, he sprang down to another ledge.

. . .

He lifted his nose to the air again, smelling the forest. It smelled…warm, as strange as it sounded; the air was heavier somehow than it was in the mountains, more…full? He couldn't quite describe the feeling of it. Still, the soft soil felt good underneath his hardened paws, and the sheer _greenness _of everything made him feel oddly happy. The forest cats had it so easy, living here. Here, if a cat was hungry, he could take two pawsteps and find himself standing on a mouse. Here, if a cat was tired, all he had to do was spring into a tree. Here, if a cat was thirsty, he could just lap up a bit of water from the nearest stream.

_It's no wonder we defeated them so easily, _Northstar thought smugly. _They're weaklings, every last one of them. They'll have to become stronger in the mountains, though, or they won't survive. It's as simple as that._

Northstar's ears swiveled, hunting for the sound of rushing water. He hadn't actually been to FourPool before, and he was cursing himself inwardly for not following the mountain stream. It flowed directly into FourPool, and would have led him there easily. However, FrozenClan's camp was far from the main stream, and Northstar had assumed it would be easy to find in the forest. He wasn't used to foliage blocking his view; even springing into a tree didn't help much.

Still, walking in the forest was relaxing, at the very least. He could hear birds chirping and singing above him, filled with the joy of newleaf. The new moon the night before had marked the end of leaf-bare, although the plants didn't quite know it yet. Still, even with very little foliage growing, there was still much more here than on the mountains he called home.

Northstar's head turned, as the sound he had been hunting for reached his ears; water, and just in time. The night was young, but leader ceremonies took time to complete. Northstar raced forward, pushing his way through the still brambles and dormant ferns. Then, he stopped, as FourPool came into view.

Four streams flowed into the huge pool, which shimmered in the moonlight. One from the mountains, cold and clear, one from the sea, sharp and salty, one from the marsh, dark and dank, and one from the forest itself, swift and sweet. This was where the four Clans' water converged, and this was where StarClan had chosen to speak to them.

Northstar hesitated, frozen for a moment by a strange kind of awe at seeing the way the stars seemed to dance in the water, or how the moon itself seemed to ripple. For a short moment, he felt a sort of inner peace; it was true, how he had gotten to power had been a dark and twisted path…but perhaps somehow, by carrying out his father's dream, he had made it right. He knelt down on the bank, and lapped up a bit of water. It was cool on his tongue; he tasted the tang of salt, a dark earthiness, and then a slight sweetness, before blackness overcame him.

_He was in a ring of trees, in some murky, foggy forest. He glanced around uncertainly; where were the nine cats that would give him his lives?_

_Then, he saw a shape appear in front of him, and the breath caught in his throat as a broad-shouldered warrior padded through the mist._

"_Brackenheart!" Northstar cried, overcome with joy. He raced forward, rubbing muzzles with the broad-shouldered tabby. Brackenheart remained stiff, unwelcoming, and when Northstar blinked into his amber eyes, he could see the same steely gaze Brackenheart had always worn when Northstar had done something wrong. Northstar took a step back, confused._

"_Where are the others? Are you going to give me my first life?" Northstar asked, before realizing he sounded like the overexcited apprentice Brackenheart had mentored. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the pain. "I'm ready."_

_Brackenheart smiled, but it was a sad smile, not the kind Northstar expected from a cat about to give him a life. "You're not my Northpaw anymore, are you?"_

_Northstar blinked slowly, wonderingly. "I suppose not. Losing you kind of changed me, I suppose…my father had no choice but to mentor me after you died, but I guess you were watching, huh?"_

"_Always," Brackenheart replied, "and I didn't like what I saw. What have you become? You destroyed three Clans, Northwind. Is that the legacy you want to leave behind?"_

_Northstar blinked. "I didn't do it for my own legacy; I did it for my father. It was his dream."_

_Brackenheart's eyes narrowed. "Look at you, lying your fur off. Northpaw would have never done that. You conquered the Clans because of your own ego, Northstar; you were always ambitious, aiming for the stars. Maybe if I had been around longer, I could have saved you…but I died, and you changed. You fulfilled your father's dream out of guilt; you hoped that if you fulfilled your father's dream, he would forgive you…for killing him."_

_Northstar's ears flattened. "I had to kill him; he was a fool! He would have gotten us all killed trying to fulfill his dream. Always so cold, calculating…he didn't care about his Clan, you know that. He didn't care about anyone, not even his own flesh and blood…." Northstar trailed off, and his own eyes narrowed as he met Brackenheart's gaze. "This isn't about him, though. This is my ceremony; I have to become a leader now!"_

_Brackenheart laughed. "There are no cats that want to give you a life, Northwind. It has to be given willingly by StarClan, but no one here trusts you. Not even me. You conquered three Clans; fine, good for you. It shows you're cunning, yes, but it shows your brutality as well. You murdered many cats in cold blood, killed medicine cats, leaders—"_

"_None of the leaders or medicine cats were struck down by my paw!" Northstar snarled._

"_They might as well have been!" Brackenheart roared. "You never understood that, not even as an apprentice! Lives are sacred, Northwind. It doesn't matter who deals the blow, it matters who is controlling the paw behind the blow. You sent your warriors to kill the medicine cats, cats paw-picked by StarClan themselves. You destroyed the only herb to combat the forest-sickness, knowing it would give many forest warriors slow and painful deaths, while withholding your own supply of the herb. Fadedstar and Shadestar died slow, painful deaths, drowning in their own fluids, and countless warriors followed them. You killed your own father, carefully arranging for him to lose each of his lives, blaming others and sheathing your own claws, letting others do your dirty work and pay the price for it. You never laid a paw on your father, fine, but your paw was behind those that did. Your medicine cat, Leafshadow, knew the truth; she saw you watching as that fox dealt your father the final blow. You were going to kill her, but she fled, taking your secret with her."_

_Northstar took a step back. "So you aren't going to give me nine lives. Fine. I don't need them; I took down all three Clans without them. No one dares challenge me. I don't need your lecture; I'm still alive, aren't I? Apparently I knew better than you." As the words left his lips, he knew he had gone too far. Brackenheart had once been the tom he wished was his father; they had a bond like no other mentor and apprentice in FrozenClan. And now, he was throwing that in Brackenheart's face._

_He could almost feel the fury crackling off of Brackenheart's pelt, like a tangible thing._

"_What you didn't know, Northstar, was that there was another cat watching you also," Brackenheart spat. "Your 'loyal' Crowtalon was watching as well, and Leafshadow knew it; that is why she fled, rather than tried to tell the Clan; she knew when the time was right, that he would be the one to tell. You've been played for a fool, Northstar; Crowtalon was never loyal to you, or any cat. And tomorrow night, he will be here in your place, asking for his own nine lives."_

_Northstar's eyes widened in disbelief. "I-it can't be!" he stammered. "Crowtalon would never betray me!"_

"_He let you do his dirty work, just as you let so many others do yours," Brackenheart growled, "and you were too blind to see it."_

"_Give me my nine lives, so I can fight him off!" Northstar smiled. "Give them to me!"_

_Brackenheart simply laughed. "Good luck fighting off four Clans combined," the golden tom growled, before turning to leave. Northstar let out a hiss of rage, and lunged forward, claws outstretched. Just as he made contact, Brackenheart seemed to simply melt away, slipping through Northstar's claws and disappearing. _

_The dream began crashing down around Northstar's ears._

Northstar awoke, gasping for breath. It couldn't be true! Crowtalon couldn't betray him!

He sprang for his paws, racing towards the mountain.

. . .

The cave entrance was just above him, just a few more rocks. Northstar leaped upward, grasping the stone in his claws and pulling himself up, using raw strength to propel himself onto the lip of the cave. He panted, sides heaving. Dimly, he could hear words ringing through the cave, and his heart sank.

"And then, our Northstar watched as a fox tore Frozenstar apart!" Crowtalon yowled, as Northstar entered the cave. "He would have gotten away with it, had Leafshadow not been watching him. We thought she simply disappeared, didn't she? But we were wrong! Northstar was going to kill her, and she fled. But I am still here, my Clan, to tell you this story! Northstar is a traitor, to all the Clans! How many cats have we lost, FrozenClan? How many lives did Northstar destroy? And I am coming to you now, to ask: Will we let him do this?"

The Clans yowled, united in one cry, made Northstar's heart drop like a stone. "Kill Northstar! Avenge our dead!" They yowled, sounding like vengeful spirits as their voices echoed, bouncing off of the cave walls.

"The traitor returns!" Crowtalon howled, sounding enraged, but as his blue eyes met Northstar's, Northstar realized they were as cold as ice. Crowtalon had planned this all along; the enraged cries, the yowls for Northstar's blood were all a lie. Crowtalon didn't care that Frozenstar was dead, any more than he cared if Northstar paid for his crimes. This was just a simple way to unite the four Clans together; if they had a common enemy in Northstar, who would dare revolt?

And Northstar also knew that he would not be killed today; that would defeat the entire purpose of this, would it not? If Northstar died and the threat was resolved, FrozenClan would dissolve into four Clans again. But as long as there was the threat of Northstar, lurking in the shadows, they would remain united and wary. Crowtalon would have them eating out of his paw.

Crowtalon had whipped the Clan into a frenzy; there was nothing Northstar could say to them not that would stop their rampage. And so, he fled.

Northstar leaped off of the ledge, letting out a slight "Huff!" as he felt the hard ground underneath his paws. He began running, leaping from rock to rock down the side of the mountain. He knew the mountains better than any soft forest cat; they would give up the chase soon. The FrozenClan cats would chase him, but they wouldn't catch him; he would move too quickly for that. Northstar had been called 'Northwind' for a reason, as a warrior; he was the fastest cat in the Clan, speed which he had inherited from his mother.

Loose rocks slid underneath his paws, but he did not falter. Behind him, he heard a yowl as some foolish forest cat lost her footing, plummeting to the ground far below. He didn't even look back.

A stretch of smooth rock, almost a path, opened up in front of him. He raced down it, taking only a moment to glance over his shoulder and seeing the horde of cats had lessened, and almost all the forest cats had either given up or dropped behind. A cold smile curled his muzzle, and as the rock path ended, he sprang up onto a high ledge, standing on it for only a heartbeat before leaping down onto a lower one, continuing on to another rock path that dipped down low, to where he could leap down again.

The last of the forest cats would be heaving for breath, but Northstar was just beginning to get going. Despite the danger, his paws felt light, and the thumping of his heart was like a song in his ears; this was what he had loved to do, as an apprentice, chasing the others around and always coming out on top as the fastest. None of the others had managed to touch him when it came to speed; Brackenheart had always encouraged him. The day Brackenheart died, another sacrifice for Frozenstar's mad pursuit of controlling the forest, he had promised Northpaw that they would race that evening. But Brackenheart had never returned, for that final race, and Frozenstar had no choice but to train his son as Northpaw had always wanted.

Northstar tore himself from his thoughts, as he realized he had began to falter; his pace was off slightly, and he could feel his hot blood on the stones under his paw with each step; a rough rock had scratched his pad, leaving the chasing warriors a perfect trail to follow.

"Foxdung," Northstar muttered under his breath; he would never lose them now, with a clear trail to follow. There was only one option.

Northstar changed direction, beginning to spring upwards rather than downwards. His muscles complained as he forced them to launch his entire body into the air, finding footholds in the smallest crannies as he climbed. There was only one place he could hide.

There, the dark mouth yawned, like the maw of some colossal beast. Northstar glanced behind him and smiled, forcing himself up another ledge and then leaping into the darkness.

Smooth stone greeted his paws as he entered the tunnel, soothing his aching paw. The light faded behind him, turning the cave from gray to black in a matter of moments as he ran. The tunnels were FrozenClan's prized secret, hollowed out by some sort of powerful force centuries ago, before cats lived in the mountains. They harbored a sacred place, but Northstar wasn't headed there; the tunnels snaked all over the mountains. He could disappear within them and his followers would never find him, never know where he had gone or where he would come out. And they would live in fear, with Crowtalon as their new leader.

Northstar let out a hiss of rage, and came to a stop. He pressed his cheek to the tunnel and began moving again, slower this time so as not to lose the tunnel when it snaked to the left, and then split into two. He continued down the left side, follow it, knowing his pursuers would split up as well. At the next fork he took the right branch, then the left, then the right, then the left. Each fork would make the group split in half, until there were only a pawful of cats following him. He could handle a pawful.

Northstar finally stopped, collapsing on the smooth stone, his sides heaving and his body pushed to the point of collapsing. And there he lay in the darkness, his ears his only clue to the cats that would eventually catch up to him. When they did, he would be ready.

. . .

The sound of gentle pawsteps made him wake. He blinked slowly and tensed, as the steps approached; two cats, maybe three. His body groaned as he moved into a sitting position, listening intently. He could hear their loud breaths, their impatient paws hitting the stone, not knowing they were inches away from death.

And then, he struck, his claws slicing over the first warrior, before he turned on the second, biting without knowing quite what he was biting into, and springing away again. Their yowls of pain and confusion rang in his ears, telling him where their muzzles were, and he sprang again, his teeth meeting a warrior's throat. He bit down, tasting salty blood in his mouth, and released, letting the body drop to the floor. The second warrior sprang at him, its claws slicing his side before his own sliced down its muzzle, then chest, then hitting its throat. The second warrior collapsed with a gurgle.

Northstar's eyes searched in vain in the darkness for the identities of the warriors he had just killed. Silverbrook, the slim, young tabby, and Falconwing, a brash young male. No guilt touched Northstar's heart; they had attacked him, not the other way around, really.

Northstar let out a quiet sigh, and padded two tail-lengths down the tunnel, before lying down again and curling up.

This time, his sleep was deep.

**AN: Have you ever watched a snow leopard or an ibex navigate a sheer cliff? Extraordinary.**

**Before anyone gets huffy about his name, I assure you it makes sense. Cats do know their directions; in one of the first ten chapters of the first book of the first series (as canon as it gets, ha) one of the cats note that ShadowClan is cold because the 'north wind' chills their hearts. This tells us two things. First, they know about cardinal directions. Second, they pair the north wind with cold. FrozenClan is a brand new Clan, as we know, so their naming is a little off, but it still makes sense; as North represents cold, Northstar's pelt was white when he was born, thus he was named 'North' for his pelt. Wind isn't just because it's obvious as a suffix, either; as we know, North is crazy-fast. **

**So don't kill me. :D**

**I think I might have confused some people, too; Snatched and Shattered aren't really connected. I mean, they have Fear in common, but that's about it. Well, technically they'll have a few more characters in common too…but this really has nothing to do with Snowhawk & co. Silverstreak isn't in any way connected to Snow and Frost, although I guess the ways her parents died were kind of similar-sounding in the Prologue. Silver's father died of the forest-sickness (which we'll get to later) and then Silver's mother died in battle.**

**Sorry for the confusion. ^^;**


	3. C h a p t e r 2

**AN: British Northstar? Totally BA. I'm trying to imagine it, but my accent keeps slipping. Sigh.**

**Now, since multiple time-lines might get confusing, I'll probably include what day it is somewhere in the chapter. I love round numbers as much as the next gal, so we'll say each phase of the moon lasts one week, even though that isn't technically true.**

**Warriorcrazy, if you're confused you can PM me and I'll do what I can to help. That goes for the rest of you loverly peeps too~**

**Someone pointed out Tigerstar's nine lives; the reasons for Tigerstar gaining nine lives are simple: First, he was welcomed into ShadowClan. He didn't do anything evil to attain his position as leader of ShadowClan; he didn't kill the past leader, like Northstar did. Second, StarClan themselves put Tigerstar in the leader position; they gave the medicine cat a special vision telling them of future glory, remember? For whatever reason, StarClan chose Tigerstar for the leader position. Unlike Northstar. ;)**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**2**

The sun came up bright and early for the three she-cats, the day after the new moon. Silverstreak had to rouse Ravenwing and Frostfeather, who were both content to snooze on. It was as if Silverstreak was the only one who realized how important this all was; there was no saving their Clan, but they couldn't let BirchClan die out. The fate of BirchClan rested in their paws; perhaps if they could raise enough able-bodies warriors for their cause, they could take down Northstar themselves and end his tyranny.

"Do you think they got everyone?" Ravenwing asked, blinking at Silverstreak anxiously as the three of them greeted the dawn. Silverstreak looked uncomfortable, not wanting to lie.

"Probably," she said softly, "but we should still try to find the others."

"Where will we go? We can't waltz back into camp; Northstar will know that we're missing by now, and he'll probably send a patrol to BirchClan camp," Frostfeather pointed out.

"A wounded warrior might be there, and we could get there first," Silverstreak replied. "We have to try; the three of us are fast enough to evade capture, hopefully, and if it comes down to a fight I think we're ready. I don't know how many cats Northstar might put on patrol…hopefully not many."

"He's crafty," Ravenwing said quietly. "We can't underestimate him. He had the entire conquest planned, right down to how each leader would die."

Silverstreak flinched slightly, glancing away, and Ravenwing realized what she had said. "Sorry!" Ravenwing exclaimed, looking flustered. "I didn't mean it like that, I just meant…."

Silverstreak flicked her tail against Ravenwing's flank. "It's okay," she mewed, but she wore a sorrowful smile. She missed her father so much it ached, and she couldn't help but feel guilty that she hadn't been there when he had let out his final breath. StarClan had told her to flee, but shouldn't it have been after her father died?

She sighed quietly, shaking herself. "We should get moving," she mewed, twitched her tail to the others. "Let's hurry to camp."

. . .

The smell of blood hung heavily in Silverstreak's nose as they entered camp. Ravenwing looked away, unable to stand looking at the bodies, arranged in some sort of pile. Frostfeather let out a hiss of rage.

"They moved them all together like that, but they couldn't take the time to bury them?" she spat, her green eyes burning. Ravenwing pressed her pelt against her sister's comfortingly.

"We don't have time either," Silverstreak said with a sigh. "I'd bury them if we had time…but they're in StarClan now, and we've got a mission. I'm sure they'll forgive us."

Ravenwing and Frostfeather nodded, but Ravenwing couldn't tear herself away from the pile. She was trembling, Silverstreak noticed.

"Why don't you stand guard?" Silverstreak asked, glancing at Frostfeather. Ravenwing blinked slowly, and then nodded, padding towards the camp exit to watch. Her shoulders still trembled.

"I'll look in the warrior, apprentice, and leader dens for any survivors," Silverstreak said softly. "You look in the queens den, elders den, and medicine den."

The white she-cat nodded, and the two of them split up. The stench was overwhelming, and the fact that it came from cats that had once been Silverstreak's Clanmates simply made it worse. She could feel herself beginning to tremble, but she had to make sure there was no one of BirchClan left.

The warrior den between the roots of the oak was empty, as was the apprentice tree inside of the ash. The leader's den, a dirt mound covered in brush was also empty, although it still reeked of sickness; the too-sweet smell of the forest sickness covered the camp like a blanket, threatening to devour the scent of blood.

"There's no one here," Silverstreak meowed, her shoulders slumped with defeat.

"I didn't find anyone either," Frostfeather said softly. "I guess…I guess we really are the last ones left."

"Unless we go through the bodies, we won't know for sure…but we don't have time for that." The very idea was revolting, and terrible; to see all of her friends and Clanmates dead, to have to look into their faces and know that BirchClan was truly no more….

"There are signs of a struggle in the nursery, and hints of dragging," Frostfeather said. "I think they took the queens and kits with them; the kits can be molded and raised into FrozenClan warriors, and the queens would do anything to keep their kits safe."

"Then there might be hope, I guess…there might have been other warriors too, those that joined FrozenClan to fight another day."

"Or those that took the coward's way out," Frostfeather said. The bitterness in her voice surprised Silverstreak; did she really think her Clanmates would betray BirchClan like that?

_No, _Silverstreak realized. _She thinks _she _betrayed BirchClan, by leaving with me before the battle. She thinks we betrayed BirchClan, by not fighting with them. Did we? We fled to rebuild the Clan…but we're still here, in the forest. Couldn't we have fought for BirchClan?_

_StarClan told us to flee early; the last thing they'd want for us is to be hanging around the same forest as Northstar and his cronies. We'll be captured or killed, and then who will fulfill the task to rebuild BirchClan? We can't stay here; this isn't home anymore. We'll just have to steel our courage and leave this place._

_The only home we've ever known._

"Blood!" Ravenwing meowed, turning towards Silverstreak and Frostfeather.

"The entire camp smells like blood," Frostfeather said to her sister.

"No, I mean I found a trail of blood, over here," Ravenwing mewed. "A lot of it."

Frostfeather and Silverstreak exchanged glances, and padded to Ravenwing's side. Sure enough, a trail of crimson-red blood led away from the camp. Two trails, even, as if one bleeding cat had been chasing another.

"Is there a chance they could be alive?" Ravenwing wondered.

"Not likely, with all this blood from the first one…but maybe the second, the one chasing him," Silverstreak meowed. "Of course, this could easily be a FrozenClan cat chasing a BirchClan cat."

"But it might be the other way around. We should at least check."

Silverstreak nodded. "Frostfeather, you'll be on my right. Ravenwing, on my left. We have to be ready for any signs of an ambush; for all we know, this could be some sort of FrozenClan trap; I wouldn't put it past Northstar using his own warriors' blood for trapping cats who managed to get away from the battle."

The other two she-cats nodded, and Silverstreak began creeping through the brush, her pelt prickling with nervousness. The path of blood twisted and turned; clearly, this had been a chase. But who had been chasing, and who had been running? FrozenClan and BirchClan, or BirchClan and FrozenClan?

The scent of blood was growing stronger in Silverstreak's nose, but it was bearable after the stench in camp. Then, Silverstreak froze, flicking her tails to the others telling them to stop. The three of them crouched, and Silverstreak peered through the brush. There were two cats lying together, both with a pool of blood around them.

Silverstreak signaled for Ravenwing and Frostfeather to stay hidden, and crept forward through the brush, trying to get a closer look. FrozenClan and BirchClan scents mixed with the smell of blood.

Finally, Silverstreak stood, and began padding forward. One of the cats, a ginger tom, raised his head just enough to look at the cat approaching them. His golden eyes flashed with recognition, and Silverstreak stopped in her tracks.

"Flameheart?" she whispered. "Is that you?"

"Silverstreak," the ginger tom rasped, his voice weak. "So you're alive…after all…." His head fell to the ground once more, and Silverstreak rushed to his side. He had three long, deep gashes down his side that had caused his fur to almost matted with blood.

Silverstreak raised her head, blinking at the second warrior, another tom. He smelled of FrozenClan, and her lip curled into a snarl.

"Don't," Flameheart murmured, his eyes closed. "Leave him be."

Silverstreak blinked in confusion. She lifted her head, and saw that there was damp moss lying between the FrozenClan tom and Flameheart.

"I…I don't understand," Silverstreak said, looking down at the fiery ginger tabby.

"He was stronger than I; he brought me water from the creek," Flameheart murmured.

"But he's the enemy! Why would he do that?"

"There's no point in keeping anamosities when you're both going to die," Flameheart rasped. "His Clan abandoned him. FrozenClan cats came after him to see if he could be saved. I pretended to be dead…FrozenClan took one look at him and decided he was no use to them, and left. If they had stayed, he would have told them I was alive too, but with his Clan deserting him, he felt no need. I knew my Clan was beyond my help…so there was nothing to fight, you see, even if we had the strength." Flameheart opened his golden eyes again; they were clouded with pain. "He was stronger than I, for awhile, and when during the night my thirst became too much to bear, he went to the stream just beyond camp and brought moss for me back, to drink…."

Silverstreak stared at the two warriors uncomprehendingly. It was true they had no need to fight…but had Flameheart's pain really been so much that the FrozenClan tom had attempted to help?

"It takes a special kind of honor, that does," Flameheart rasped, "but he was dead by morning."

"Ravenwing, Frostfeather, it's safe," she turned to meow, only to see her friends already padding her way.

"Flameheart," Ravenwing mewed, her eyes round and sorrowful. Flameheart looked at her without moving his head, and smiled.

"Ravenwing, and Frostfeather too? BirchClan still lives, I see…good…." He let out a rattling cough. Ravenwing moved forward, but he flicked the tip of his tail at her. "You were a good medicine cat apprentice, until you decided to become a warrior," he rasped, "but your talents won't save me. I've been lying here for a night and a morning now, and I'd just like to leave, if you know what I mean." He gazed at her, and Silverstreak saw a pleading look in the old warrior's eyes. Her ears flattened; Flameheart had been one of the older warriors, and one of her father's friends when he was an apprentice. Flameheart had always been kind, strong, and noble, as good a warrior as any other cat. He had taken her out for several mentoring sessions when she was only a kit, back when the mountain cats loomed as a wild and strange threat, before Fadedstar, Silverstar, and Shadestar had come together to share the Clan ways with them.

"I-I'll get some poppy seeds from the medicine den," Ravenwing stammered, her green eyes shining with pain as she looked at the old warrior, so fragile against the bloodstained grass. Flameheart murmured an inaudible thank-you, and Ravenwing turned, disappearing. Silverstreak marveled at her courage, going back to BirchClan's destroyed camp to help an older warrior in his final hours.

She came back moments later, trembling, and laid four poppy seeds. "You'll be on your way soon."

Flameheart's pink tongue stretched out, licking up the poppy seeds. Within moments, his taut muzzle relaxed, and his eyes slowly closed. Without speaking, the three BirchClan she-cats laid down, ignoring the blood soaking into their fur, resting their muzzles against Flameheart as he took his final, painful breaths.

. . .

At sunhigh, Flameheart's breathing finally stopped, and the three rose to their paws.

"They both deserve burials," Silverstreak meowed, staring down at Flameheart and the mysterious unnamed FrozenClan tom.

"We had time to sit with him; we have time to bury them," Frostfeather said firmly. Ravenwing nodded, clenching her jaw stubbornly, and Silverstreak smiled at her friends, warmed by their loyalty to their Clan.

"Alright."

Silverstreak's silver paws dug into the bloodstained grass, scooping out a pawful of slick dirt before going down again. Frostfeather and Ravenwing dug together, for Flameheart, while Silverstreak worked on the FrozenClan cat's grave alone.

Silverstreak's pelt was prickling with tension as the graves were finally finished and Flameheart and the nameless tabby where placed inside of them. Ravenwing, Frostfeather, and Silverstreak bowed their heads over the graves a moment, praying.

_Please accept Flameheart into StarClan with open paws; he was a noble warrior. Do the same for this strange FrozenClan cat, who showed that even in war, acts of kindness are possible. BirchClan, those of you who are waiting in the stars for us, know that we will not rest until our mission is completed. It's taken us awhile to realize that we must leave our home, but we know it now; rest assured that we will someday come home and free the three Clans from FrozenClan once more, as it was meant to be._

Silverstreak touched her nose to the soft dirt, underneath which Flameheart laid, as did Ravenwing and Frostfeather.

Silverstreak sighed softly. "We have to move, then; the forest isn't safe here, and any cat that is still alive knows it as well. We'll have to leave the forest and find our own way."

Ravenwing and Frostfeather both nodded. "We trust you," Frostfeather purred, pressing her pelt against Silverstreak. "StarClan chose you for a reason."

Ravenwing nodded silently, and Silverstreak smiled at them both, feeling as if she was glowing with warmth; what had she done, to deserve such friends?

"Let's go," she meowed, and with a final look at the two graves, they left BirchClan's territory.

. . .

Silverstreak's muzzle curled with disgust as her paws were sucked down by the mud once more.

"How did MarshClan stand this?" Frostfeather asked in disgust, pulling herself out of the marsh's grasp. If Frostfeather had one vanity, it was her thick white fur, but it now seemed it was filthy beyond help. Silverstreak's whiskers twitched at seeing her friends covered in mud, but she realized she probably looked the same way.

Silverstreak hooked her claws onto a patch of grass, pulling herself out of the mud. It made a disgusting squelching sound, a wet sound, and she shuddered.

The sun was going down, and the mud packed onto her fur was making her feel chilled; the marsh's water was icy cold. It was only the beginning of newleaf, after all.

"Are we even sure we're going the right way?" Frostfeather complained again. Silverstreak rolled her eyes.

"The mountains that wrap around the valley are smallest in the south," Silverstreak reminded Frostfeather. "As long as we have the north star behind us at moonhigh, we know we're going the right way. MarshClan's territory is the farthest south of all the Clans, so we're going the right way."

"Why couldn't ShellClan's be the farthest south? All they have is sand and sea," Frostfeather said with a sigh. "That's much better for my fur!"

Ravenwing, to her credit, remained silent, but that was perhaps because of all three cats, her fur was the shortest. Silverstreak had gotten her long fur from her mother, and Frostfeather had gotten her long fur from her father; Ravenwing's short black fur came from her mother. Frostfeather was usually smug about her long, beautiful fur, but when it came to slogging through wet marshes, Ravenwing's shorter, sleeker fur was the best.

Strange scents met Silverstreak's nose, and she hastily signaled for Frostfeather and Ravenwing to freeze. Silverstreak crept forward slowly, and blinked; in front of her was a grove of marsh trees; MarshClan's camp?

Trying not to make a sound in the loose ground, Silverstreak climbed up onto one of the tree's roots to get a better view. She closed her eyes, looking away quickly; there was another mound of bodies exactly like the one in BirchClan. The scent of blood and sickness was too strong for her to scent anything else, and so she climbed back down the roots, flicking her tail to tell Frostfeather and Ravenwing to follow her. They continued slinking for ten-or-so tail-lengths, until they felt safe enough to continue at full pace.

Even if they scented MarshClan cats, it would be impossible to tell if they were FrozenClan's new warriors, or MarshClan cats in hiding. If they scented anything, they would hide and watch; it was the only way to avoid capture.

It only got colder as the sun finally disappeared and the stars came out. Silverstreak tracked the north star's movements with her icy gaze, until the moon was at its peak.

And the she-cats continued, wading through the muck and the grim, ignoring hunger's sharp claws.

As the sun made its appearance once more, the three cats had to find a place to rest. Ravenwing went to scout for a safe place, while Silverstreak and Frostfeather attempted to hunt. It was difficult, but they finally managed to catch a toad, with Silverstreak startling it right into Frostfeather's paws. It wasn't much to share between the three of them, and it tasted very different from what they were used to, but it was enough to take the edge off of their hunger. They curled up together between the roots of a large tree, shivering, and finally descended into sleep.

. . .

Silverstreak awoke to the sound of whispers. She blinked slowly and raised her head, only to see a group of warriors speaking with one another. She ducked down hurriedly, keeping her ears pricked.

"So, what did your group find?" one cat asked, a she-cat by the sound of her voice.

"There's no sign of life on ShellClan territory, Poppyfur," one cat meowed.

"We found something strange on BirchClan's territory, though," another said. "Fresh graves, probably for BirchClan cats."

"Eaglestar, Silverstreak, Ravenwing, and Frostfeather are still missing," the first cat, Poppyfur, mused. "It must have been one of them returning to the scene…but Eaglestar already knew how the battle turned out and who was dead, so he wouldn't have come back. It must have been the other three, traveling together, according to Northstar. Speaking of him, have any of you found his scents?"

"One set of warriors didn't come back from the chase, so we know which tunnel he fled to, but it comes out near the south. He's probably long gone by now; no one could catch Northwind, remember?"

"Well, the BirchClan scents fit with the strange ones my group found here," Poppyfur continued. "Cats of the other Clans couldn't track here, but we're from MarshClan; we can track anything." There was a note of pride in her voice.

Another warrior let out a hiss. "We of ShellClan were good trackers too; we just aren't used to your slop," he growled. Silverstreak heard Poppyfur let out a growl as well; maybe they would get into a fight, picking each other off so Silverstreak, Ravenwing, and Frostfeather could escape?

"We've lost the scent, though; they must have been clever and hidden themselves in the mud. Smarter than I would have thought for BirchClan cats."

Quiet chuckles came from the group, and Silverstreak guessed that this patrol was made up of MarshClan and ShellClan cats, not BirchClan or FrozenClan warriors.

"So, what do we do?"

Poppyfur was silent for a moment. "Let's report back with what we know; Crowtalon will be glad to know this, at least. I doubt he's worried about a couple BirchClan cowards anyways. They came this way, so they're fleeing to the south. Eaglestar should be his only concern now."

The other cats murmured their agreement, and Silverstreak heard the squelches of mud indicating that they were truly leaving. She let out a breath of relief, and waited for several more moments before she woke Ravenwing and Frostfeather. She quickly explained to them what she had overheard.

"We were that close to being captured?" Ravenwing gulped.

"Wait, what was that about Northstar?" Frostfeather asked. "They called him a traitor?"

"Apparently he fled down some sort of tunnel, too," Silverstreak replied. "My father knew they had secret tunnels, but he didn't know to what extent; it sounds like they're huge. Either way, this Crowtalon is in charge now, it looks like."

Ravenwing shuddered. "I remember him; he had these blue eyes, as cold as ice. He was Northstar's deputy; I wonder if he turned against him?"

"Serves him right, the creep," Frostfeather growled. "Still, Crowtalon sounds just as bad."

"We've got to be careful, if Northstar is heading the same way," Silverstreak meowed. "If he's been cast out, he's probably paranoid and fierce. He won't hesitate to kill us, to try and worm his way back into his Clan."

The other two she-cats nodded, and they slunk out of their makeshift den, looking around nervously before continuing on their journey.

Northstar's fate prickled Silverstreak's mind as she forced her way through the mud; the old mud that had begun to flake off of her pelt was soon covered and refreshed by new mud. _Why would FrozenClan turn against him? His father was popular among them, and by succeeding with Frozenstar's dream, Northstar should be their hero. Did Northstar do something wrong…or did Crowtalon do something right?_

In front of them, the southern mountains loomed, like gray thorns against a vast blue sky.

**AN: It's kinda like how in the Civil War, in between battles or once battles were over, dying soldiers would sometimes share supplies/conversations with those next to them, whether they were enemies or not. **

**Sometimes my author's notes don't really make a lot of sense once you finish the chapter. This is because when I think of anything to write in them, I just jot it down at the bottom so I don't forget to mention it. Hence why I sometimes bring up things that happened in the beginning or middle of the chapter at the end.**

**So now we're ending on the day **_**after**_** Northstar was exiled. This is where the story will pick up again on the next chapter.**


	4. C h a p t e r 3: Crowtalon

**AN: The reason the Northstar chapter was titled and the Silverstreak chapter wasn't, is because the chapter just held the title of the narrator. With Silverstreak the narrator is obvious; every even chapter will be told by her. For the others, though, it's easier for you guys to know who you're reading about first, cha?**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**3: Crowtalon**

He plucked each feather carefully, enjoying the sensation of ripping each feather from the flesh of the little bird. _So small, and yet so filling, _he marveled. Truly, the forest was a place of wonders.

"Crowtalon?" a voice asked hesitantly, making him look up. He blinked slowly at one of his guards, a large gray tabby.

"The patrol has returned," the tom rumbled.

"Let them in," Crowtalon meowed, sitting up. A tortoiseshell entered the den, padding forward confidently.

"What have you to report?" he asked.

"ShellClan has no strange scents, but in BirchClan we found new graves; we think the three she-cats buried some of their Clanmates. Eaglestar is nowhere to be seen, and Northstar hasn't yet been found either…we think Northstar is fleeing to the south, as are the three BirchClan she-cats."

"So, Eaglestar is the only one still around?" Crowtalon growled. The tortoiseshell nodded.

"You're the same cats that Northstar spoke to the day before, correct?"

The tortoiseshell nodded again. "Much to our regret, sir. My name is Poppyfur."

Crowtalon's eyes narrowed; Poppyfur spoke as if she regretted serving Northstar, but her heart wasn't in it. Was there a shred of loyalty she felt towards the former FrozenClan leader?

"And who are the others on your patrol?" Crowtalon asked, keeping an even voice.

"Hollystripe, Fawn-nose, and Frogleap of MarshClan, Bluepool, Sandpelt, and Dustclaw of ShellClan," Poppyfur mewed. Crowtalon considered it for a moment, and then nodded.

"You're free to go," he growled, and Poppyfur padded away.

"You got all of those names, did you not?" Crowtalon asked, turning towards his gray guard, who nodded. "Northstar treated them with some amount of kindness, to earn their trust; they might be his allies or spies within the Clan. Have them executed in front of the Clan; make up some story about them helping Northstar, I don't care. It will strike some fear into these cats, which is what we need."

The guard dipped his head and padded out of the den. Crowtalon smirked, and continued plucking his bird.

. . .

Poppyfur and her patrol-mates were dead by sunhigh, executed in front of FrozenClan, setting an example for the new Clan. It made it seem like they were getting closer to finding Northstar, by eradicating his followers first. Crowtalon watched with the rest of the cats as Poppyfur and the others pleaded for their lives, to no avail.

"Get that trash out of here," he told two other warriors, who hurried to obey, dragging the patrol's bodies away.

With that, Crowtalon sprang onto the ledge overlooking camp.

"FrozenClan!" he yowled, catching any cat's attention that hadn't been fixated on the execution. "What you have just seen was not pretty, but it was necessary, for those cats were traitors against us. We are one Clan now, united."

"We'll never follow you!" a cat snarled, rising to his paws. Crowtalon noticed it was a ShellClan cat, which was strange; they were full of pride, but always crumpled when it came down to a real battle.

One of Crowtalon's guards shifted, ready to tear out the outspoken warrior's throat, but Crowtalon held up his tail.

"I understand that some of you feel this way," Crowtalon rumbled. "Both Frozenstar and Northstar's pursuits were strange, some might even say crazy. But you must remember, warriors, of the terrible battles between Clans, over prey and territory. How many cats have died in the past, squabbling over borders and food? How many cats suffered because they couldn't feed their families? MarshClan, your territory was always the poorest; you were the smallest of all the Clans, both in numbers and build. Wouldn't you relish the chance to hunt in BirchClan's rich forest?"

For a moment, there was silence, until several cats yowled their agreement. Crowtalon smiled.

"BirchClan, weren't you tired of being flanked by enemies on both sides, always catching MarshClan stealing prey or ShellClan flaunting their strength? ShellClan, didn't you ever want to sleep where your pelt was not filled with sand and the tang of salt?"

More agreeing yowls made their way to Crowtalon's ears. "And FrozenClan, have we not always been looked down upon, for joining the other three Clans late? Wouldn't we like to hunt on warm ground, without tearing up our paws for a piece of stringy prey?"

The yowls were defending, echoing across the cave like thunder rumbling overhead. Crowtalon raised his chin proudly.

"United, we can have all of these, my Clanmates! We can share prey, our borders will all be the same, and there will be peace among the Clans. We can have all of this and more!"

"Lead us, Crowtalon!" A warrior yowled, and the others soon took up the chant, except for several bystanders who watched with looks of horror as the warriors were taken up in the frenzy. "Lead us! Crowstar! Lead us! Crowstar!"

"We will have a new beginning, my Clan!" Crowtalon yowled. "And with that…a new name! From this day forward, we will be known as TalonClan, rulers of the mountains, forest, sea and marsh!"

"TalonClan! TalonClan! TalonClan!"

Crowtalon sat back, wrapping his tail around his paws.

It was all going according to plan.

. . .

Crowtalon did not pay a visit to FourPool that night, nor did he intend to. StarClan was a shadowy force to most FrozenClan cats, unseen and unfelt. Whether they even existed or not was uninteresting to Crowtalon; StarClan had nothing to offer, and that was that.

If they did exist and gave nine lives, he was certain he would not get them; he had let cats die in battle for Northstar's pursuits, and then betrayed and arranged for his leader to be killed. Northstar wasn't the right leader for FrozenClan, and neither was Crowtalon, but StarClan would do nothing about it.

And even if he gained nine lives, what good would it do him? Frozenstar had his nine lives, and yet he had fallen to his crafty son. Crowtalon wasn't the only cat in the Clan with brains, he knew. There were others who would try the same moves as Northstar had. And if Northstar had his nine lives, what good had it done him? He was an outcast now, with no Clan and no hope of a future.

Crowtalon would rely on his own wits and strength; he wouldn't be beholden to any cats in the sky. He had clawed his way to the top, and he would hold his place there.

Of course the new TalonClan murmured about Crowtalon refusing to speak with StarClan by morning, but the murmurs were quiet, fearful. The executions had left them scared, hesitant to turn away from Crowtalon's teachings.

And his teachings progressed rapidly. The next day, he took on the issue of StarClan.

"TalonClan!" he yowled, summoning the cats together just after the dawn patrol, and yet early enough that no hunting patrols had set out. The warriors turned towards him expectantly, wondering what their new leader had brought for them to hear.

"StarClan," Crowtalon meowed, and the Clan rippled with interest. "The starry cats above us, on whose teachings our entire Clan life has been set. They are supposed to protect us, to watch over us."

The murmurs began again; some cats, mainly those that had not cheered for TalonClan the day before, already saw where this was heading.

"StarClan sat by and watched as FrozenClan took over the other three Clans," Crowtalon continued. "StarClan didn't try to warn Fadedstar, Silverstar, or Shadestar of the coming evil. They remained silent, even when Northstar ordered for the forest Clans' medicine cats to be killed. StarClan even gave Northstar his nine lives, as his name shows. Whose side is StarClan on, I must ask?"

"StarClan gives us free will!" a warrior yowled. Crowtalon saw it was the same one as the day before, the brave ShellClan warrior. He made a mental note to set up some sort of accident for him, to silence his voice.

"Yes," Crowtalon said smoothly, "they do. But how do we have free will, how can we make the best decisions, if they don't tell us what is coming? Couldn't they simply tell us what is coming and allow us to prepare, rather than send is cryptic prophecies, or retain their silence? Would the forest Clans have been lost if StarClan had told us of Northstar's dark plans? How many lives would have been saved, if StarClan had only done what was right?"

"StarClan betrays us!" someone howled, a loyal FrozenClan warrior. Crowtalon smiled. It was like setting up a row of rocks; once one fell, the others fell as well in a steady downfall.

"StarClan wasn't there for us when Fadedstar died!" an anguished cry rang out.

"Yes, TalonClan! StarClan has betrayed our trust and left us to die! Their gifts of nine lives to leaders are nothing more than a sham, a way to place us in their debts even after our deaths have come. I am not falling for their ploy, TalonClan; we will remain independent of StarClan's touch. From this new Clan, we will forge a new identity for ourselves, without StarClan's toxic influence. We will stand alone! We will control our own destinies!"

TalonClan began chanting again, but this time more warriors stood against the motion.

"StarClan has given us the warrior code, our Clan names, our lives!" the ShellClan warrior spat. "We can't throw that in our faces! StarClan cares about every one of us. Don't you see what they're doing? They're trying to control us, and rule us! What's next? Getting rid of the warrior code?"

The ShellClan tom's eyes met Crowtalon's chilling gaze, and a look of horror came over his face as he realized what was next on Crowtalon's list.

. . .

He waited until the half-moon, biding his time, allowing TalonClan to get used to the fact that StarClan was no longer in their lives. He kept FrozenClan's medicine cat around, but only for taking care of injuries. At the same time, he chose four kits, the oldest from each Clan, to follow the FrozenClan medicine cat around and learn her ways. She knew she was being replaced, but there was nothing she could do; refusing to teach the kits her knowledge of herbs would make her life that much shorter, and when she died the Clan would be left without any cat knowing anything about herbs. Crowtalon made sure the medicine cat had her own guard; it was for protection, he said, but it was actually to ensure that the medicine cat didn't poison her new apprentices' minds with tales of the mighty StarClan, or try to share false prophecies to get rid of Crowtalon.

Then, on the day of the half-moon, Crowtalon ascended the ledge a third time.

"TalonClan," he said warmly, keeping the tone of a father. The Clan turned to him, ready for more of his wisdom. Without StarClan, the thought of cosmic fates or intervention had left their minds; there were no consequences for them now, nothing they couldn't do so long as Crowtalon didn't forbid it. Their lives had become much easier, more free, or at least in their minds. It didn't hurt that TalonClan was composed of the cats who had fled or betrayed their Clans during the original battles, either; they had forsaken StarClan with the same ease as they had forsaken their Clans, and as they would forsake the warrior code.

"My Clan, we have done much over just the past quarter-moon," he meowed, "but now I must ask you to do even more. Northstar was an evil cat, and he is still on the loose. Even if we captured him, the warrior code would not allow us to kill him. Northstar abided by the warrior code for most of his life, and yet isn't he still evil? What has the warrior code done, to stop evil? What good does the warrior code do us now? All it did before was perpetuate the violence that raged between Clans. Now, we are one Clan; there is no need for many rules in the code. And don't the others seem a little silly, without StarClan forcing us to follow them? Why should our kits wait for six moons before becoming an apprentice? Many of them are eager to start training before then, and doesn't denying this simply make them open to enemy attacks? Don't we want our kits to grow up strong and safe?"

With that, he secured the reluctant support of the queens who had joined TalonClan simply because they were taken by force, as well as the kits who were eagerly awaiting their own apprenticing ceremonies; these kits were the future of the Clan, and Crowtalon planned to get them on his side quickly.

By this time, TalonClan's revolutionaries had been mostly weeded out by Crowtalon's keen eyes and his new elite guard's keen claws. There were few cats willing to speak out against him now, but plenty willing to side with him.

"No warrior code! No warrior code!" They chorused. He didn't even bother to smile with pleasure; the warrior code was doomed as soon as he took power. These cats were moldable mud in his talented paws.

"Without the warrior code, we don't need our Clan names," he continued. "Every cat will refer to themselves with their prefix only, and queens will name their kits with only a prefix; no 'kit'."

"Crow! Crow! Crow!" The word TalonClan thought was his name rang in his ears. He let them chant it; it wasn't his true name, but it would do as they gradually became used to the idea.

. . .

He gave them the rest of the day and then another before he made his next announcement.

"TalonClan," he purred in a warm voice. "Are we flourishing? We've not had a single battle or dispute for this entire half-moon. Our numbers are increasing, with two new queens this moon. However, I must ask: how are we going to feed ourselves? With no enemies, we'll soon expand enough that we need more territory than what we currently have. What can we do then?"

"New territory," a warrior offered up, and Crowtalon nodded.

"But where can we find it?" he asked, cocking his head to one side.

"We'll conquer it!" a tom declared, and Crowtalon smiled.

"Exactly," he purred. "There are so many territories full of warring cats. But we can remove those cats and establish our own groups. Aren't we strong? Don't we want to fill our families' bellies?" A resounding cry answered his questions, and he smiled.

"Some of us are better fighters than others," he continued, "and since I did not take StarClan's false gift in nine lives, I will need nine guards. These guards will be given special names, to mark them as such; fearful names that will spark terror in the hearts of our enemies. There will be other important cats too, cats that will help us gain more territory. I myself will gain a new name, one that cats even beyond the forest will regard with fear and respect. I will be…Slaughter."

For a moment, it seemed as if some spark of resistance, of foreboding, had appeared within the Clan. They did not chant his name at first, until one cat hesitantly mewed,

"Slaughter," and others began repeating the name, until it swelled into a chorus, music to Crowtalon's ears.

And with that, TalonClan shed their past form, turning their backs on StarClan, the warrior code, and their entire culture. From that moment on, he was no longer Crowtalon, and they were no longer warriors. He was Slaughter…and they were TalonClan.

**. . .**

"Our first order of business is scouting," Slaughter meowed. The gathered cats nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"It would be foolish of us to simply charge into battle," he continued. "We need cats to explore to the east, west, and south, to find places where we can extend our rule. You're some of the fastest and strongest cats of TalonClan; I trust you will complete this mission with ease. You must see how far you can get in one moon, while taking notes of territory, possible enemies and allies, food supply, and danger levels. The mission will last a full two moons; if you have not returned by then we will presume you to be dead and send out another party. You are not to make contact with any possible enemies or allies, only to observe. Be discreet! I cannot stress this enough. We must not allow any cat to learn of our plans, for then they'll have time to prepare."

The assembled nodded respectfully, and Slaughter flicked his tail.

"Smash, Pit, and Slash will be on the east party. Blight, Barb, Scorch, you three will be headed west. Bristle, Snake, and Venom will be headed south. Understand?"

The warriors nodded, and Slaughter flicked his tail, dismissing them. They filed out of the den without another word, save for one silver she-cat who bore her father's icy eyes.

"Why didn't I get a job, father?" the she-cat hissed, padding towards her father's nest. "I deserve it just as much as any of those fools!"

Slaughter blinked at her calmly. "Of course you do, my dear," he purred, touching her muzzle fondly with his tail. "You've got your own mission."

The she-cat smiled, looking almost excited, but then her eyes narrowed. "And you're sending Blight away, too! He might never come back!"

"Is that concern for him?" Slaughter asked with a slight laugh. His daughter looked away.

"He's one of the strongest toms here; I think he's like to bear my kits, is all. I can't let them have a weak father, now can I?"

"I know; as you said, Blight is one of the strongest cats. He'll return in time; likely, he'll be home before you."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that? What is my mission?"

"Both Northstar and the BirchClan cats are still running loose," Slaughter said calmly. "They're no longer in the forest, and yet I am still troubled by them…the BirchClan cats were reported missing before the battle even took place, you know. One of them was Fadedstar's daughter. Why would she have left her father to die and her Clan to perish, especially since she was supposed to become deputy after Fadedstar died, if BirchClan survived the battle? She must have had a reason, my dear Toxin."

Toxin shrugged. "Whatever the reason, she and the traitor are both gone now. I fail to see the interest in this."

Slaughter leaned forward. "These cats are driven by their belief in StarClan. I don't hold to it myself, but I believe some sort of vision must have told Silverstreak and the others to leave BirchClan. That kind of fanaticism is dangerous if not properly controlled. They may be gone now, but who says they'll never return? Not only that, but our scouts report that both Northstar and Silverstreak fled to the south. They were bitter enemies, but they both held a grudge against FrozenClan. It is possible that they might consider joining forces, and Northstar is no fool; he has a mind for tactics. He and the BirchClan cats might be rounding up a fighting force as we speak, waiting for the perfect time to strike like an adder. It weighs heavily on my mind, my dear daughter; won't you relieve this weight for your father?"

Toxin's eyes gleamed coldly. "You're sending me away on a fool's errand," she said bitterly.

"Don't think of it that way; this is a very important mission. I can't entrust it to anyone but you, my darling, my child. Only one of my blood could understand the importance of resolving this matter. I need you. I can't force you to do anything, Toxin; it is a request, not a demand."

Toxin's blue gaze flitted away from his, and she seemed almost moved by her father's pleading tone. Finally, she bowed her head.

"I'll do it, Father. I'm glad you know that you can trust me with anything," she mewed softly, before padding out of the den. She paused for a moment, and turned to look at him. "I trust I'm not going with the scouts?"

"No, and breath not a word of this to anyone," Slaughter warned. Toxin nodded, and left the den. As her scent faded, Slaughter smiled to himself. He wasn't above using his own kin for his errands, and he had to admit…he was quite skilled at it.

. . .

The scouts wasted no time, leaving at sunrise for the tunnels. The tunnels would lead them to the easiest paths through the mountains, and their journeys would commence. Toxin waited for the southern patrol to disappear into the tunnels before setting off on her own way; the tunnels would be useless to her if she was tracking Silverstreak and the other two warriors, her main target; Northstar was powerless without followers, and it was likely that he would also be tracking the three BirchClan she-cats.

Slaughter watched as Toxin slipped away from the Clan emotionlessly. If she didn't come back, that would be fine; her pelt reminded him too much of her mother, one of the only cats ever to slip out of Slaughter's grip. She had been a free spirit, even when they mated, and she had later escaped FrozenClan with Slaughter's other daughter. He didn't know where they ended up, and he didn't care; Toxin didn't even know she had a sister, she was too young to remember. Toxin's eyes had never set upon her mother, but it was obvious that her mother had been the owner of a silver pelt, as Toxin had.

Slaughter tore his thoughts away from his lost mate, back to TalonClan. With so many warriors gone, there would be more food for every cat, which was good; food wouldn't be a problem for some time, anyway. The forest had born the weight of three full Clans; now it only had the shattered remains of the forest Clans and a few mountain cats to worry about. Still, the fear of starvation was enough to keep TalonClan on Slaughter's side about the conquests. He would have to make sure to pick the easiest path for their first conquest, to inspire confidence in his followers, before moving onto tougher pickings.

He smiled, marveling at how his power had grown in just a quarter-moon. He had his Clan under his control. He had both the forest and the mountains. He had a brutal fighting force, and a dozen kits who would grow up under his spell.

He had everything; nothing could touch him now.

**AN: Yay totalitarianism, complete with state-of-emergency measures, 'living space' goals, removal of individuality/cultural awareness/religion, and defining new classes (the guards and scouts).? He's even got our buddy Hitler's goal of 'living space'. Fun, right?**

**Question for any tropers out there:**

**Crowtalon: Magnificent Bastard, or Smug Snake?**

**Also, and this really has nothing to do with the story, but I find my timeline to be very amusing; I have the days marked for each character, as well as a little note for what they did that day. Crowtalon's take-over-the-Clan-and-kick-Northstar-out-thing is simply marked "Bwahahahaha." That's actually one of the more normal entries, too….**

**Maybe I'm a bit spoiled (okay, I know I'm spoiled after Snatched) but I would appreciate either a few more reviews, or else reviews that are a little longer, please? Thank you. ^^;**

**To help with the review things, I'll enlist your help:**

**The BirchClan kitties strike me as being rather bland, so I'd like you guys to help me flesh out their characters. Just post some sort of little quirk or interesting thing that can help me enjoy writing about them a little bit more; if I really like it, I'll use it! To help you with their characters, this is their basic outline:**

**Silverstreak – Very compassionate and kind, believes in second chances. Her faith in StarClan is nigh unshakable, as is her loyalty to the warrior code. She's a bit gullible because she believes in the best in every cat (except maybe Northstar).**

**Frostfeather – Very fierce and protective of her friends, especially her sister. She's vain about her fur, but is willing to get dirty in a battle or while traveling. She's an excellent fighter, but only a passable hunter. She's very straight-forward, and doesn't take any crap from anyone. She's a bit of a flirt, and was a heart-breaker back in BirchClan, fond of messing around. (Frostfeather's pretty solid, it's the other two I really need help with).**

**Ravenwing – Very shy and soft-spoken; nervous around strangers. She chose to be a medicine cat apprentice at first, but her great love for her childhood friend eventually forced her out of the position. While she's not much of a fighter, she's an excellent hunter, with endless patience and excellent focus, unlike her sister. She, like Silverstreak and Frostfeather, is very loyal. She's intelligent, but doesn't often voice her own ideas.**

**Go to town, guys~**


	5. C h a p t e r 4

**AN: Crowtalon/Slaughter ended on Day 11 of our timeline, which is where we'll pick up with Silverstreak again…because climbing mountains is boring. xD**

**And no, Silverstreak and Toxin are not half-sisters or sisters. I'm not exactly sure how that would work, honestly; maybe I'm just missing something, since Silverstreak's parents have been stated and Toxin's kind of have. Silverstreak's mother was white and Toxin's mother was silver, so…yeah? Also, Silverstreak's roughly twice as old anyway (30 moons, or two-and-a-half years) while Toxin's only 18 moons (one-and-a-half years).**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**4**

Silverstreak blinked slowly, not recognizing the feeling under her paws for a moment. She let out a soft sigh as she realized it was earth; dark, soft, warm earth. She kneaded the ground with her paws for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling.

It had taken them another day to reach the foot of the southern mountains from the marsh, and then three days to climb up and three days to climb down. They would have gone faster, except they could only travel during the day; even in newleaf, the mountains' nights were bitterly cold. Stories of cats freezing to death in Greenleaf had been common in BirchClan, as a way to both warn kits of the mountains, and of the fierce cats that dwelled there, mighty enough to survive the freezing cold.

Not only could they only travel during the day, but they had been exhausted from lack of prey – they discovered that most mountain prey required skills quite beyond theirs to catch – as well as the mountain taking a bite out of their paws with each step.

And then, they had finally come out of the mountains the day before, eagerly seizing the nearest den to sleep, comforted by the sounds of the forest. As it turned out, beyond FrozenClan's ring of mountains was simply another forest, although it wasn't the kind that BirchClan was used to; here there were pines, instead of BirchClan's silver birches. Still, any trees were better than the desolation of the mountains.

Silverstreak shifted slightly, and then blinked, realizing someone was missing. She peered in the darkness of the den, finding Frostfeather's bright pelt with ease. It was Ravenwing that was missing.

Sudden fear gripped Silverstreak's heart; had the exiled Northstar snatched her away? Silverstreak gave her chest a quick lick, and let out a slight breath. She was becoming paranoid, just knowing that Northstar was out there and perhaps waiting for them. An exiled Northstar was somehow more terrifying than a Northstar with an entire Clan at his side; he would be set off balance by not having cats to back him up, and he would be desperate to regain his lost glory. He would be even more ruthless and dangerous than ever before. Again, she wondered what crime could have been so great that the villainous Northstar would be cast out of his Clan.

_His father died very suddenly, much to the shock of the Clan, _she thought, but then shook her head. _They reported that it was from a fox; that's awfully hard to fake, and they would have never accepted him as leader in the first place. So then, what…?_

Silverstreak shook herself, feeling hunger claw her belly; she hadn't had a good meal since she had fled BirchClan. Careful not to disturb Frostfeather, she rose to her paws and slipped out of the den, a small hole between two pines. They had sprouted beside each other, and with their roots grappling for ground, had pushed the dirt upwards. Their roots held the roof in place, still fighting each other in an ageless battle.

She blinked at the morning light, and found herself smiling again. Compared to the mountains, here in the forest it felt like Greenleaf, even in the hazy morning light.

She turned her head, and blinked with surprise as she recognized a dark shape just a few tail-lengths away, sitting with her back to the den.

"Ravenwing?" Silverstreak called softly, padding to her friend's side. Ravenwing's head turned slightly to glance at Silverstreak, and then returned her gaze to the sky.

"That cat, Poppyfur…she said Eaglestar still hadn't been captured," Ravenwing whispered. Silverstreak sat down beside her.

"Might as well call him Eaglestrike; he never gained his nine lives, and he doesn't have a Clan to rule anymore," she mewed. Ravenwing flicked her ear at Silverstreak, and the silver tabby smiled. "If he's alive and well, he'll find you," she promised. "You two had something incredible, something I've never seen before…or felt…." She trailed off. "Even Frostfeather would agree; her relationships were always short-lived flings, but with you and Eaglestrike…I think you loved him even when you were a kit." Her whiskers twitched with amusement. "You were even jealous as an apprentice, remember? I had to assure you that it was completely platonic between Eaglestrike and I; we were nursed from the same mother, remember, after his had the miscarriage? Whitefrost loved him like a son, and I like a brother…you even gave up becoming a medicine cat for him. That was your dream. You're an awesome warrior, don't get me wrong, but you would have made an amazing medicine cat, right?" Silverstreak's nose twitched as she realized she was rambling. "He's probably heard some foolish patrol declaring that we're free too," she continued. "He'll be coming after us. Don't you worry."

"He won't," Ravenwing said miserably. Silverstreak frowned.

"Don't downplay yourself, Ravenwing, you're well worth it," she meowed, but Ravenwing shook her head.

"You two were like kin, but I think I knew him best," Ravenwing mewed. "He was always loyal to BirchClan, always. If he thought there was even the slightest chance that BirchClan could be saved somehow, he would stay and wait it out. FrozenClan won't be able to catch him, he knows BirchClan territory like no one else…but even if he knew we were safe, he wouldn't follow. He'd entrust us and himself to StarClan, and simply wait for the right moment to win BirchClan back. He loves me, Silverstreak, but the Clan always had to come first between us. He was never happy with me giving up becoming a medicine cat, even though he knew there was no other way. He always felt guilty, I think, that he had cost BirchClan the perfect medicine cat…." She bit her lip. "I just hope he'll be okay."

Silverstreak nuzzled Ravenwing's shoulder. "You said so yourself: He'd entrust himself to StarClan. I don't think StarClan will let either of you down." Silverstreak blinked, noticing the two mice at Ravenwing's paws. "What are those?"

Ravenwing blushed. "I thought I'd catch us some prey, to keep our strength up; I already ate one for myself, I'm sorry, but I needed my strength to catch the others. I kind of got side-tracked though, when I saw the sun, and it reminded me of his eyes…." Ravenwing's own green gaze went slightly misty, and Silverstreak couldn't help but smile.

"Love-struck romantic," she teased, but picked up one of the mice in her jaws. "I'll wake up Frostfeather, she'll be delighted; I never understood how she could eat so much and still be so slim."

Ravenwing nodded, and Silverstreak rose to her paws, padding back into the den. Frostfeather's emerald eyes sprang open instantly as the scent of prey hit her nose.

"Oh my StarClan," she whispered, seeing the mouse in Silverstreak's jaws. "I've been dreaming of mice ever since we entered the marsh!"

Silverstreak dropped it at Frostfeather's paws, and the two of them padded outside to enjoy the morning air. Frostfeather noticed Ravenwing's forlorn look, and sent Silverstreak a quizzical look. Silverstreak mouthed 'Eaglestrike', and Frostfeather nodded in understanding. The two of them settled down to eat their mice, letting out purrs of contentment as the prey filled their clamoring bellies.

"I swear, my stomach must have shrunken or something, because I'm hardly hungry at all now," Frostfeather joked. Silverstreak's whiskers twitched; Frostfeather had always been a bottomless pit when she was an apprentice, and even when she was a young warrior, until her appetite for toms exceeded her appetite for food.

They ate quickly and buried the bones.

"Where are we going now?" Ravenwing asked. "This forest is nice, but prey is pretty scarce; it took me hours to find those three mice, and they aren't much. I can see a single cat or maybe two living here, but they'd probably rather move on to greener grass."

"We could see a huge lake and a Twoleg settlement from the mountains," Silverstreak remembered, almost smiling at the memory; for all their savageness, the mountains did have their moment of beauty, such as when Silverstreak could see both the entire Clan forest and the pine forest from the mountain's high ridge.

"Let's start at the lake," Frostfeather said quickly. "I could use a drink, and water is more important than prey; surely there is a cat or two living there."

Silverstreak nodded quickly and rose to her paws, flicking her tails to the others and leading them into the forest.

The fallen nettles irritating Silverstreak's rubbed-raw paws, but she pushed past the pain; Ravenwing knew the herbs to treat their paws, but they were scarce in both the mountains and this pine forest. There might be herbs growing near the lake, which was partly why Silverstreak had decided to start there instead of the Twolegplace; there would be water there too, after all.

The smell of water met their noses by sunhigh; Silverstreak couldn't help but walk with a spring in her step. She couldn't wake to take a deep, greedy gulp; the mountain streams were cool enough to freeze one's tongue.

Cattails were the first thing the BirchClan cats could see, ringing the broad river. They rushed to the lake's end and buried their muzzles in the water, guzzling it down greedily. Silverstreak couldn't help but rejoice; the water had the same faintly sweet taste as the water from her home.

Ravenwing soothed her thirst quickly and then ran off for some herb or another. Silverstreak and Frostfeather took their sweet time; it was many gulps before their burning thirst was quenched.

Frostfeather let out a sigh of satisfaction. "We haven't scent a cat since we arrived, or an enemy, so I think this place is safe," she meowed. "We can split up to look for any cats we missed, those that might want to mask their scents and hide rather than defend their territory from passersby."

Silverstreak nodded, and the two of them split up, Silverstreak heading on the left side of the lake, Frostfeather down the right.

Silverstreak slunk through the reeds and cattails, keeping herself low to the ground and hidden. She didn't want to spook any cats she might stumble upon, and send them running before she could speak to them. Or, to make sure she wouldn't be attacked by some sort of beast; a badger, or a fox, for example.

Silverstreak stiffened suddenly, as her keen ears picked up the sound of splashing. She began moving forward more slowly, until she captured the cause of the sound in her sight; it was a little silver kit dabbing her paw in the water. With each dab, she collected a bit of water to rub onto her fur and lick; she was grooming herself.

"Hello," Silverstreak said gently, not wanting to scare the kit away. The kit turned quickly.

"Mu—" She squinted, and blinked. "You're not Mudder. Who're you?"

"I'm Silverstreak," she answered with a smile. The kit blinked slowly, and then began grooming her chest as if nothing had happened.

"I'm here from far away," Silverstreak explained. The kit ignored her, starting grooming at the base of her tail. Silverstreak blinked, bemused. "What's your name?"

"Mudder calls me Shimmer," the kit grunted, washing her right shoulder.

"That's a very pretty name," Silverstreak said warmly. It fit the little kit; her silver fur did have a sort of shimmer to it in the sunlight.

"That's why my Mudder name-ed me it," Shimmer said crossly. She turned to blink at Silverstreak with cold blue eyes. "Are you done or are you gonna leaf? If you're not my Mudder, I dun't want you here, otay? Just go."

Silverstreak blinked in surprise, realizing that 'Mudder' was not a name, but simply Shimmer's way of saying 'Mother'. "Did your mother leave you?" Silverstreak asked. "Did she disappear?"

Shimmer finally seemed to show some emotion; her eyes flickered, and she looked away. "They chased uzz," she whispered, and a slight tremor wracked her shoulders.

"Who?" Silverstreak asked. Shimmer didn't answer, but she didn't continue grooming her fur, either.

"They," Shimmer said again.

Silverstreak sat down, wrapping her tail around her sore paws. She wasn't quite sure what to make of this little kit, honestly. "Would you like to come with me?" she asked. "You look like you could use a good meal. How long has your mother been gone?"

"Few days," Shimmer growled, and her stomach rumbled loudly. Silverstreak's whiskers twitched with amusement.

"Come on, I'm sure either of my friends have caught something by now," she meowed, flicking her tail. Shimmer hesitated, and then rose to her paws, trailing after Silverstreak.

They padded back to where the three of them had first taken a drink. Ravenwing was nowhere to be seen, but Frostfeather was lying near the bank, eating a water vole heartily. Frostfeather blinked in surprise as she saw Silverstreak, and then the kit.

"Sorry, I didn't think you'd be back so soon; I was still hungry," Frostfeather said. She cocked her head to one side, studying Shimmer. "Who's this?"

"I is Shimmer," the kit announced, and she took a step forward, pulling the vole away from Frostfeather with one claw. Shimmer began eating, and Silverstreak was surprised to see how quickly the vole went down Shimmer's gullet. Finally, Shimmer sat back with a pleased expression on her little face, and the bones picked clean.

"Any cat who can eat like that has my respect," Frostfeather purred. "Where did you find her?"

"Just out there, by the reeds; she was separated from her mother when something chased them, I think."

"Was scary," Shimmer mewed with a tiny shudder. Frostfeather blinked at Silverstreak.

"What are we going to do with her?"

Silverstreak shrugged. "Her mother's been missing for a few days now; I'd like to stay and see if she ever comes back, but we don't have time." She turned to the kit. "Shimmer, would you like to come with us, in case your mother doesn't come back?"

Shimmer's jaw clenched stubbornly. "Mudder always comes back," she growled. "She neber leaves."

"I know, but it's been several days since you last saw her; wouldn't you rather be with other cats? I'm sure she'll come and find you, even if you're with us," Silverstreak said gently. Shimmer stared down at the bones between her paws.

"Shimmer gonna wait for Mudder," she said stubbornly. "Not going."

Silverstreak and Frostfeather exchanged glances, but Silverstreak simply nodded. "We can't force you to do anything you don't want to," Silverstreak meowed. "Are there any other cats nearby who could take care of you?"

Shimmer shook her head.

"We'll catch you a few pieces of prey to last until your mother comes back, okay? We'll be leaving in the morning. We'll be going to Twolegplace, if you change your mind; you can probably find us there." Silverstreak had seen the Twolegplace from the mountains, but it seemed so small; surely it wouldn't be hard for this little kit to find them there, if she needed to. All she'd have to do was ask for the three she-cats who were hunting for Clanmates, right?

Silverstreak's ear flicked, as Ravenwing returned, with glossy leaves in her mouth. "These will help our paws," she purred, and then blinked in surprise as she saw Shimmer. "Well, who's this?" she asked, blinking at the little silver kit.

"This is Shimmer; she and her mother were separated from each other," Silverstreak explained. "I asked if she'd join us, but she declined; I thought we'd catch her some prey so she doesn't have to be hungry while she waits for her mother."

Ravenwing blinked slowly. "I see." She dropped the leaves on the ground. "Might as well get over here, you two; I've heard that Twolegplace is full of rough Thunderpaths. Come on, it won't hurt."

Silverstreak let out a soft sigh as the cool dock leaves wrapped around her paw; it was like soaking her rough, bleeding pads in cold water.

"Oh, that's _nice,_" Frostfeather purred.

"Just relax," Ravenwing said, smiling at her friends. "You two should just rest; I can hunt for Shimmer and you two; I already had some prey myself."

Silverstreak simply nodded, lowering herself so that her head was resting on her cooling paws. She let out a sigh of contentment, and her eyes drooped closed.

. . .

She felt a gentle nudge to her shoulder, and blinked slowly, coming awake. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but once the dock leaves had reduced her pain, sleep had been hard to resist. She blinked up at Ravenwing's smiling face.

"I caught a mouse for you, and a water vole for Frostfeather," Ravenwing said with a smile. "I caught a thrush for Shimmer; I figured she could play with the feathers to amuse herself…I guess that worked."

Silverstreak blinked, and glanced to her right; Shimmer had plucked every single feather from the thrush, and was rolling in them, ignoring the prey entirely. Silverstreak couldn't help but smile; Shimmer was strange, but she was cute, in a way.

"We'll catch more for her before we go, just to make sure she'll be okay," Silverstreak decided, taking a bite of the mouse. "Thank you, Ravenwing."

Ravenwing smiled, looking pleased, and padded a few tail-lengths away to curl up in the grass.

Silverstreak and Frostfeather finished their prey quickly, rising to their paws and stretching.

Silverstreak blinked up at the sky; it was already dark, with the stars beginning to shine. Silverstreak smiled up at the moon, realizing that it wouldn't be too long before it was full.

"Let's hurry," Silverstreak meowed. "We'll need a good rest for when we get up in the morning to head into Twolegplace."

Frostfeather nodded, and the two of them padded back into the pine forest; the area around the lake had probably been hunted out by Ravenwing.

They stayed close together, pelts almost touching; Silverstreak couldn't help but shiver as a cold wind touched their pelts.

"It feels like we're being watched," Frostfeather meowed. Her eyes were narrowed, glancing around quickly.

"We're in unfamiliar territory, that's all," Silverstreak said, trying to soothe Frostfeather's fears as well as her own. "Shimmer and her mother are the only cats here."

"There's those things that chased her, too," Frostfeather pointed out. "Whatever they were."

Silverstreak shrugged. "Just keep your eyes peeled."

The wind suddenly blew at them again, from a different direction, and Silverstreak's nose caught a trace of a strange scent. She frowned, opening her mouth to catch it.

"Cat," she murmured to Frostfeather, who nodded.

"I don't see anyone, though," Frostfeather meowed, her eyes scanning the area. "There's no foliage to hide in here."

"The trees," Silverstreak whispered. "The branches are thick; someone with a dark pelt could easily be hiding in them."

"Who's there?" Frostfeather growled, her eyes darting around the tree branches. "We know you're watching us. Show yourself!"

"You can't see my true face," a voice hissed from above, sounding like an adder slithering over stone. "It would give you nightmares for the rest of the time you have left!"

Silverstreak felt a chill, but Frostfeather only bristled.

"What's your name?" she spat. "Stop hiding like a coward, and come and fight us!"

"My true name cannot be pronounced by any tongue," the voice continued. "You may call me…Death."

"Death?" Silverstreak scoffed. "What kind of name is that?" She was trying to keep him talking, to pinpoint his position; then they could take him down.

"Of course it's a good name! It's cool!" For a moment, the cat's creepy voice seemed to falter, growing slightly high-pitched. Then, the hidden tom cleared his throat. "You won't be thinking that when I slit your throat! Although, you are kind of pretty, you know? Your fur looks…so luxurious…." His voice seemed to falter again, but Silverstreak had him pinpointed. She flicked her tail to Frostfeather, signaling where the tom was crouching. Frostfeather nodded, and slowly slunk towards the base of the tree. Her white fur stood out even in the darkness, but Silverstreak had the mysterious tom distracted.

"Show yourself!" Silverstreak spat, and the tom let out an amused purr.

"Not even for your pretty face, princess. Death spares no on—" His boasting was cut short as Frostfeather flung herself into the tree, her claws catching the tom and knocking him to the ground. Silverstreak ran to Frostfeather's side, but there was no need; the tom stopped struggling almost immediately. His pelt was jet black, contrasting sharply with his bright golden eyes. He blinked up at Frostfeather, and smiled.

"I think I was wrong!" he purred, not bothering with the snake-voice. "You're much prettier close up, sweets."

Frostfeather blinked, and Silverstreak's whiskers twitched as she realized her friend didn't know whether to be angry with this cat for deceiving them, or pleased at the compliment. She settled for scorn.

"Some Death," she scoffed. "You're just a pile of bones!"

Death – or whatever his real name was – frowned up at her. "I've just missed a couple meals is all."

Looking closer, Silverstreak realized that Frostfeather was right; despite his large frame and thick fur, the tom was skin and bones. It was obvious that if he was better fed he would be quite strong and large, but it appeared he was either a bad hunter, or prey was scarce. Silverstreak was inclined to think the former.

"Just let him go, he's no threat," Silverstreak said tiredly.

"We should at least make him join the Clan, for our troubles," Frostfeather meowed, although it was clear from her glare that she wanted nothing to do with Death.

"Clan?" Death's ears pricked with interest. "That sounds tasty."

"A Clan is a group of cats abiding by a strict code," Silverstreak meowed. Almost immediately, she could tell she had lost Death's interest.

"Codes and rules….No fun, huh? Plus I bet it's one of those pull-your-own-weight things, and those are never fun for me." Death yawned, and then winked at Frostfeather. "Although, it is fun having you on top of me, sweets."

Frostfeather let out a growl, and Silverstreak knew she was having a hard time not clawing Death's fur out.

"Just let him go, before you rip his ear off," Silverstreak purred, her blue eyes glinting with amusement. Frostfeather released Death; he was on his paws in an instant.

"We'll see each other around sometime, huh?" he asked, winking at Frostfeather again. "Feel free to stop by any time, love."

"Trust me, you don't want me stopping by any time soon," Frostfeather growled. Death shrugged and then ran off, his black pelt disappearing into the dark forest.

Frostfeather and Silverstreak exchanged glances. "Strange fellow, huh?" Silverstreak asked, much amused by Frostfeather's reaction to Death's flirting; it seemed she only liked flirting when she was the one doing it.

"This isn't his territory, clearly, or he would have marked it," Frostfeather said, ignoring Silverstreak's smirk. "I suppose he'll be running off to Twolegplace."

"Maybe we'll see him again, and he'll confess his love to you," Silverstreak teased. Frostfeather shoved Silverstreak with her shoulder.

"Shut up and hunt," she growled.

. . .

"There, that should be enough for you. Try not to eat it too quickly, okay?" Silverstreak smiled down at Shimmer, who regarded the small pile of prey with cold eyes.

"Maybe we'll see each other again," Frostfeather purred, touching Shimmer with her tail. The silver kit flinched away.

"Come on, we'll need to get moving," Silverstreak flicked her tail impatiently. "Let's go."

The other two she-cats nodded, and with a last farewell to Shimmer, they began padding away from the lake.

The grass was tall, hiding both prey and enemies from Silverstreak's view. It even seemed to mask scents, for the wind only swayed the grass, not penetrating the grass with the rich scents it carried.

Silverstreak was nervous as they walked, and she could tell that Ravenwing was also fearful of what was ahead. _How dangerous will it be, with all of the monsters rushing around? _Silverstreak wondered. _At least it looked small from the mountains…but the lake was huge when we finally found it. The Twolegplace will likely be huge too…._

_At least a place so large has to have some cats in it, right? Hopefully at least a few of them will want to come with us…._

The grass ended suddenly, leaving Silverstreak feeling exposed. Her eyes widened as she saw a Thunderpath cut right through the grass to their left, unseen and unscented. She followed the Thunderpath down the gentle slope, into the Twolegplace.

Silverstreak swallowed nervously, and glanced at Frostfeather and Ravenwing. Ravenwing was nibbling on her lower lip nervously, but Frostfeather gave Silverstreak a nod.

Silverstreak took a deep breath, and headed down the slope, into Twoleg country.


	6. C h a p t e r 5: Belladonna

**AN: Belladonna's a kittypet, so she knows about Twoleg things, cha? Generations of cats have lived in this house, and they've shared their human-knowledge through the generations. Simple enough, right?**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**5: Belladonna**

_She slunk forward, loving how smoothly she moved, as if each muscle knew it's exact job and was performing perfectly. Her short white fur, dappled with blue and cream, blended in with the subtle colors of the forest floor._

_She could hear something moving just in front of her, but what it was, she couldn't quite tell. Prey? An enemy?_

_She stopped suddenly, and crouched, coiling her muscles beneath her. Then, like a bolt of lightning, she sprang forward, her paws outstretched. She landed on the back of a large gray tom, hissing and scratching. Her teeth bit into his ear, and his blood flooded her mouth as he let out a yowl of pain, almost a screech. The tom twisted, trying to grab her, but she balanced perfectly on his back, out of reach. She raked her claws down his back, and the tom let out a shrill howl._

_He reared back on his hind legs, thinking to crush her, but as she came down she sprang off of him, before leaping on him again as he laid on his back. She raked her claws down the length of his stomach, hissing. A flash of pain made her yowl as his claws sliced her muzzle. It was as if a fire had been kindled inside of her, an unstoppable rage pulsing through her veins as she sank his claws into his throat. He stopped fighting and went limp, his eyes staring up at her with terror._

"_Let me go," he rasped. "Please, I'll leave! I'll promise!"_

_Blood dripped off of her muzzle, landing on his white stomach._

"_I don't think so," she snarled, as blood bubbled up beneath her claws._

Sudden pain made her eyes snap open, and she blinked slowly, coming around. What had happened? Had she just dreamed that, really? Killing that cat?

She moved into a sitting position, to see old Timber glaring at her.

"You're always wailing, Belladonna" he growled. "You're supposed to relax when you sleep, dirt-for-brains."

She simply blinked, unruffled by his comments; the old tom was always gruff, and hated to be woken up.

"Sorry," she mewed, dipping her head to him. He settled back down in his nest of dirty paper plates, and his green eyes closed once more.

She looked down at herself, and frowned as she realized her white chest was covered in sauce from the spaghetti the night before. She started to lick it off and then shuddered, remembering the blood on the tom's chest in her dream.

_Why would I dream of that? _She wondered. _I've never fought a cat in my life! I've never wanted to…._

She shivered, feeling chilled despite her thick coat.

There was a crashing sound, as someone knocked off several forks climbing onto the table. Belladonna turned, and smiled warmly as she saw her ginger friend.

"Robin," Belladonna purred, rubbing muzzles with the she-cat.

"You've got a thing on your ear," Robin giggled, plucking a spaghetti noodle off of Belladonna's ear and gulping it down. She licked her whiskers.

"What to do today?" Belladonna asked with a smile, but Robin only smiled back; there was no need for questions. They did the same thing every day; they groomed each other, getting rid of as many fleas and ticks as they could reach, then slept the rest of the day until nightfall, when Mother would give them their daily Whispering.

Belladonna sprang lightly from the table, down onto the floor. She winced slightly, as she realized she had landed paw-deep in dirt. She glared up at Timber.

"It wouldn't have hurt you to warn me!" she growled, but only received a rasping laugh in reply. Belladonna scowled.

"Jump a little farther to the right, Robin," she called up. Robin sprang down beside her, and then laughed quietly.

"You're cleaning your paws yourself,' she purred. Belladonna nipped her flank.

They padded through the narrow pathway, through the towering pile of trash. When Belladonna was a kitten, she had been afraid of the trash, convinced it would fall down on her and smother her. The trash had piled up even higher since then, but she wore no fear. Mother would never let anything bad happen to her precious ones.

They sprang up onto the windowsill, Robin with her back to the window, Belladonna facing Robin. They began grooming each other, sorting through each other's fur for any dirt, ticks, or fleas. Belladonna crushed a flea between her teeth, but her mind wasn't on it; her eyes were staring out the window, blinking out at the city streets.

For a moment, instead of the cold city, she saw lush forest. He opened her mouth, and tasted something she had never tasted before: Freedom.

She blinked suddenly, and the vision of the forest faded as she realized that Robin was talking.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

Robin's whiskers twitched with amusement as she nipped at something on Belladonna's shoulder. "Only that I think there are a few mice nibbling on the food from a few days ago, if you want to catch them after this."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Belladonna mewed, still staring out the window. Robin let out a purr.

"A little distracted today, are we? I think you've missed at least five fleas on my pelt!"

Belladonna blinked again, tearing her gaze away from the window. "Sorry, Robin; I'm just kind of off today. I guess I had a bad dream…."

Robin nudged Belladonna's shoulder. "Relax, it's fine; I'll have a new batch of fleas by tomorrow anyway. Just make sure you get that one on my shoulder, it's really bothering me."

Belladonna smiled warmly at her friend, and plucked the flee from her shoulder.

. . .

_She looked down at the dead tom in her claws. Letting out a hiss of disgust, she stepped off of his body. She stared at him for a moment, before padding away without a backwards glance._

_The scene suddenly changed; she was in a different part of the forest. In front of her crouched some sort of bird, colored in bues and grays. It was beautiful, but she didn't feel the beauty; all she felt was the hunger gnawing at her insistently. She crouched, moving forward fluidly, before springing upwards and grabbing the bird between her paws. It let out a squawk, and somehow in the back of her mind, she knew that was bad. She silenced it quickly with a bite to the neck._

_A delicious scent reached her nose, and water flooded her mouth. She licked her whiskers with anticipation, and opened her mouth to take a bite._

The voice of Mother shattered the dream. Belladonna blinked slowly, moving out of the forest and back into reality. She rose to her paws slowly, yawning and stretching, feeling her muscles pulling under her thick coat. She nudged Robin, who blinked and looked almost confused for a moment, before copying Belladonna's yawn and stretch.

"Hurry," Belladonna meowed to Robin, "we don't want to be late!"

The two of them padded away from the nest of paper they had created, running towards the sound of Mother's call. Belladonna couldn't help but purr as she saw Mother, sitting in the old beaten-up chair and crooning for her babies. Belladonna and Robin sat down, watching, as Mother picked up each cat in her spindly arms, rocking with them and crooning to them, telling them the secrets she'd never tell anyone else. She called up old Timber, nervous Mr. Spots, silent Whisper, little Sparrow, fierce Ginger, gentle Midnight, all of her beauties one by one, all seventy-six of them. Then, her arms reached down and scooped up Belladonna, and Belladonna let purr so loud it caused her entire body to vibrate, as Mother stroked her fur with her gnarled fingers.

"My Belladonna, prettiest baby of all," Mother whispered, smiling down at Belladonna. "Sweetie, angel, little darling."

Belladonna settled into the crook of Mother's arm, and her eyes slowly drooped closed as Mother caressed her fur, whispering things that Belladonna didn't quite understand. But it didn't matter; all that mattered to Belladonna and the other cats were these few, fleeting, precious moments where Mother truly cared for them, where they each received the attention they all so desperately craved.

Belladonna put her dreams aside; she could never leave her Mother, not after sweet moments like this where all was right in the crowded home.

. . .

The dreams continued to haunt her, night after night. Sometimes it was simply the scene with the tom, over and over. Other times, she was in different settings – a marsh, mountains, forest, a desert, a street – but the stories were always the same, with her hunting something. Whatever the hunted creature was varied, but she always caught it in the end.

Robin could sense the unease in her friend when she woke up, but to Belladonna's relief, she never asked any questions. Each day, the yearning Belladonna felt when she saw the window grew stronger, but Mother's love always seemed to hold it at bay.

Until, one day, everything changed.

At sunhigh, Belladonna and Robin settled down together as they always did. However, when they awoke, they found themselves blinking in the morning light.

Robin and Belladonna stared at each other, bewildered.

"Did we miss the Whispering?" Belladonna wondered.

"I don't know how we would have slept through her calling for us; surely she would have come looking for us? Remember when Missy had her kits in one of the trash-piles, and couldn't come? Mother went looking for her then to make sure she was okay. She would have done the same for us…." Robin frowned, and then her eyes widened with fear. "Do you think something could have happened to her?

The idea of anything happening to Mother was laughable. Yes, she was frail and old by Twoleg standards, but she was _Mother. _She had been there for countless generations of cats; she couldn't just _die. _

"Come on, let's find someone and ask them if they went to the Whispering," Belladonna meowed. "We probably just slept too late."

Robin nodded, and the two of them padded down the narrow hallway, towards the kitchen; there were always plenty of cats there, licking up the remains of whatever Mother had eaten the night before. However, there was not a soul to be seen.

Alarmed, Belladonna and Robin looked in the second-most populated room, the dirt-room where most cats went to make dirt; the old dirt room and the one before it had long since filled up under the deluge of cats; this one was almost full as well, explaining why some cats didn't even bother going to the room at all. There was no one there, either.

"The Whispering room," Belladonna mewed, and the two she-cats padded into the room where Mother always sat at night, Whispering to her cats. She was there, but she was strangely still, her eyes closed and her head drooping to one side, almost as if she was sleeping. Around her huddled her cats, as if trying to keep her warm.

Belladonna and Robin stared at Mother disbelievingly. She couldn't be…?

"Is she asleep?" Belladonna hissed to the cat next to her, a tom named Thimble. He simply stared back at her with dark, sad eyes.

"B-but she can't be…you know?" Robin stammered.

"She is," a rattle made them turn their heads, as Timber padded towards them. "She's gone."

Robin let out a wail of pain, but Belladonna remained silent. She felt strange, almost fuzzy; how could this be happening? How could their Mother leave them to fend for themselves?

"What's going to happen to us?" Belladonna whispered.

"My father's mother's father was a kittypet too, and he used to tell my father's mother stories about when his Twolegs passed away in an accident; more Twolegs came after him and captured him, holding him in a pen until he could be adopted. When the others find out that she's dead, they'll come for us too." Certainty rang in the tom's gruff meow.

"We can't just wait for them to snatch us up!" Belladonna cried. "Robin, we can't just sit here!" She turned to her friend for support, but the ginger she-cat's eyes were glassy.

"Where else can we go?"

A loud meow made them turn their heads. A large brown tom named Buck sat on the arm of Mother's chair; he was one of the biggest toms in the house, and fierce enough to win mating rights, but he had never fought for them, making the she-cats regard him as a bit of an oddball.

"Mother is dead," he meowed, bowing his head in sorrow. "We should stay with her, but we cannot stay forever; other Twolegs will come and steal us away from her. Living with Mother is all we've ever known, but there has to be more out there, right? There has to be more to life than moving from house to house? We can't let more Twolegs come and decide our fate for us."

"Where will we go?" a cat Belladonna recognized as Kinks yowled.

"I'm leaving the house," Buck meowed, "but I don't know where I'm going. I'm going to look for my own home, on the streets or in the forest…anywhere but here."

"I'm too old to be running off," Timber rasped. "Mother cared for me and my family for generations; I'm staying, although I don't doubt I'll die in the Twolegs prison. No one wants an old tom."

"My kits and I can't just leave," a she-cat named Queenie meowed anxiously, curling her thick white tail around them. "They'll be taken in by some kind Twoleg family; I have to stay with them."

The room broke into a chorus of yowls and cries, as cats tried to decide where their fate laid. Belladonna blinked slowly, remembering her dreams. Mother was dead; she wouldn't be Whispering anymore, stamping out Belladonna's longings. Belladonna was a beautiful cat, with her thick white fur splashed with cream and blue, but even if she was adopted by Twolegs, she couldn't be happy. Even if she and Robin went to the same home, she knew she would always be longing for something better.

"I don't know what to do without Mother," Robin whimpered. Belladonna pressed her pelt against Robin's side.

"I'm leaving," Belladonna murmured. Robin's eyes widened in surprise.

"Where can you go? You don't know the first thing about living…out there," Robin mewed with fright.

"It's hard to explain…but I was growing restless even before this happened." Belladonna didn't dare mention her dreams; Robin was a good friend, but close-minded, and she wouldn't understand how the dreams felt like more than just simple imaginings. "Will you come with me?"

Robin's eyes grew wide. "I-I can't…I don't know how…we'll never…." She trailed off, staring at Belladonna hopelessly. Belladonna smiled.

"We know how to hunt, and we can defend ourselves," she purred. "You remember that tom that Mother took in, Stump, who tried to mate with you?"

"I clawed him," Robin meowed, her whiskers twitching despite herself. "We both did, we took him down. He ran away after that, but no one missed him."

"He was fresh off of the streets, but we still managed to run him off. We can do this, Robin. Please, won't you come with me? I can't do this happily without my best friend at my side."

Robin blinked up at Belladonna uncertainly, and then let out a sigh. "Fine," she meowed, "but can we spend one last night with Mother?"

Belladonna smiled sadly, looking up at their beloved Mother's still body. "Of course."

. . .

Belladonna blinked slowly, shaking her head. Her dreams had been whirlwinds of images, colors, and sounds that didn't make any sense, as if her mind was overloading, repairing for leaving Mother.

_I can't believe we're doing this, _she thought, shivering. _But we don't have a choice…no other Twoleg could replace Mother._

She turned to Robin, who was still soundly asleep. Belladonna nudged her with her shoulder, and Robin yawned, stretching.

"Come on," Belladonna whispered, "the sooner we're out of here, the better."

Robin stared at her, and then slowly turned her head to where Mother sat, unmoving. Around her were her precious cats, all pressed together as closely as possible, each trying to touch her, to soak up the gentle spirit she had once held. Without speaking, Belladonna and Robin padded towards her, and licked her hand gently; it was almost rough, and cold to the touch, like stone. Then, the two of them left the room, feeling as if stones were weighing down their paws.

They padded to the window first, but there was no way to get through the thick glass. Then they headed for the door, where Mother used to leave each day, when she was younger.

"How will we get out?" Robin asked with a frown. Belladonna blinked slowly, and her ears flattened.

"I don't know," she answered, silently cursing herself; she should have planned something, some way to get out.

"What are you two doing?" a deep voice rumbled, and the two she-cats turned to find Buck watching them.

"We're leaving," Belladonna answered, raising her chin proudly; she wasn't scared of the big tom.

"Really? I wouldn't have picked either of you to be leavers…." He blinked. "Are you sure you can handle the streest?"

Belladonna bristled. "What is that supposed to mean?" she spat, and Buck's ears flattened.

"Simply that you two always struck me as…not the street-cat type," Buck said lamely, clearly not wanting to make either of them angry. "Still, if you're really going to go, you can travel with me." He puffed out his chest. "I can protect you."

Belladonna and Robin exchanged glances. "Right, the tom who never fought for a she-cat in his life could protect us," Belladonna remarked.

"We have complete faith in your abilities," Robin laughed. Buck's eyes narrowed.

"Fine," he growled, "good luck finding your way out on your own." He turned to pad away. Belladonna and Robin glanced at each other again – did he know the way out?

Swallowing her pride, Belladonna meowed, "Do you know the way out?"

"Maybe," Buck replied, without glancing back at them. "But since you aren't coming with me…."

Belladonna bristled. "Don't try that stuff with me," she growled warningly. "If you won't tell us, we'll just follow you."

Buck's ears flattened again, and he turned back to them, frowning. "Fine," he scowled. "Don't come with me, I don't care." His golden eyes spoke otherwise, as he stared at Belladonna; she felt a strange prickling under her pelt.

"Can we just go?" Robin asked anxiously. "I'm afraid the Twolegs will burst in any minute."

Buck flicked his bushy tail towards them. "Follow me, then." He turned to pad away again, but this time both Belladonna and Robin were on his heels.

He padded through a narrow alley between two piles of trash, heading down a path neither Belladonna nor Robin frequented; this was mostly tom territory, the area where they fought each other or did whatever other things tomcats did; Belladonna hadn't a clue about the secret life of males.

"A year or so ago, a window was broken during a fight between two toms," Buck rumbled, flicking his tail towards the window in question. Spidery cracks laced out from a dark patch over the window. "Mother patched it up as best she could, but she didn't do a very good job; this is where Stump escaped when he ran off."

Belladonna blinked in surprise; she and Robin had never questioned where the tom had escaped from, they were simply glad he had gone. "Can we all fit through it?"

Buck nodded, and flexing his powerful muscles, he launched himself onto the window sill, he disappeared. Alarmed, Belladonna and Robin glanced at each other, and sprang up together. As they were close to the dark patch, they could see there was a hole in it, a slash that could only be seen from the left, as if it had been sliced by a claw.

"Be careful," they heard Buck's voice caution them, "there's jagged glass around the edge of the patch; you'll have to squeeze through."

Belladonna took a deep breath, shivering slightly as a cold gust blew through the hole. Closing her eyes, she sprang through, falling for a moment before feeling something strange against her paws. Her eyes snapped open and she stared down in disbelief at what her paws were touching; green blades of grass. She marveled at the feeling, stroking the grass with her paws and letting out a purr.

Robin landed beside her, her muzzle splitting in a grin as she realized what they were standing on. "Grass!" she chirped, rolling around in excitement. "Oh, grass!"

Belladonna smiled at Buck. "Thank you for your help," she meowed, and was surprised that she actually meant it. _Maybe we should travel with him…for a little while, _she thought, and then frowned. _He was never in my dreams, though, and I thought I was letting them guide me…then again, neither was Robin…._She pushed the thoughts away; she and Robin had already decided on their course of action. They didn't need Buck following them around, and they didn't need to follow him, either.

She blinked as she realized Buck had said something back while she was thinking. She smiled at him, assuming he had said 'You're welcome' or something of the sort. She flicked her tail to Robin. "Come on, we should get moving," she meowed.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?" Buck asked, a warm smile curling his muzzle. "I won't slow you down; I can pull my own weight." His golden eyes were staring at her again, in that pelt-prickling way, and Belladonna looked away.

"No, we're fine," she meowed quickly, flicking her tail impatiently to Robin again. "Come on."

"Good luck," Buck meowed, but Belladonna didn't look back as she padded towards the street, still feeling his gaze on her pelt.

. . .

They slept in an alley that night, Belladonna and Robin together. Even as they huddled together for warmth, shivering at the cold wind, Belladonna couldn't help but feel elated. This was the right path, she could feel it: This was what she was meant to do. She was meant to find the forest. She was meant to fulfill her dreams…whatever they meant.

They were moving again the next day, padding through the tangled maze of cold streets. Whenever Twoleg monsters passed by, they crouched against the sidewalk, although Robin's ginger coat didn't exactly blend in with the pavement.

Hunger wasn't a problem; living in Mother's home had given them a nose for finding prey even in the smelliest trash. In truth, perhaps they were even better fed on the streets than with Mother; splitting food with so many cats meant less food for everyone, but on the streets the she-cats only had to split the food with each other.

"So, where exactly are we going?" Robin asked, nibbling a rat cautiously; they tasted worse than mice, but were twice as large.

"The forest," Belladonna answered. Robin's eyes widened.

"But you remember the stories!" she squeaked. "There are terrible cats there that fight over everything, and kill each other for no reason!"

Remembering her dreams of the gray tom, Belladonna flinched slightly, but attempted to keep a straight face, not wanting to show her uncertainty. "Those are just old legends to scare kits," she meowed. "I'm sure the forest is an amazing place; anything is better than the city, right? If we stay here, we could get picked up by Twolegs, or attacked by dogs. Twolegs and dogs don't live in the forest."

Robin let out a sigh. "I'm just going to miss everything though, you know? I miss Mother…do you think she's okay, wherever she ended up?"

Belladonna let out a warm purr. "I'm sure wherever she is, she's looking down on us right now."

**AN: Mother was a hoarder; they often hoard animals or objects. They have a compulsion to take in animals they see out on the streets, believing that they're helping, when in reality their homes are often just as bad as the streets or the wild; they mean well, but it usually becomes too much for them, as fecal matter and trash gather in the home.**

**Fun Fact: Mother died on Day 13 of the timeline. Unintentional, but amusing.**

**Also, I'm leaving this Saturday for something, and at earliest I'll be home on Tuesday, at latest on Thursday, and since there isn't a computer where I'm going, it will be a long time before I update…plus then after that I'm going on vacation, so…updates will be slow for awhile, don't expect any until next Friday or so. Sorry!**

**Will Belladonna meet up with Silverstreak &co.? Or will she head somewhere else entirely? What do her dreams of killing really mean? And, most importantly: Did Buck have a crush on her (and will we see him again)?**


	7. C h a p t e r 6

**AN: Yay, Animal Cops! **

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**6**

The city was intimidating, fearsome, with the buildings looming over them like angry gods. Ravenwing seemed practically glued to Frostfeather's side, her green eyes huge in her black face as monsters roared by. None of them had ever seen monsters before, or buildings, or even Twolegs; their mountains had always sheltered them from such things. All of the new scents, terrifying sounds and bizarre sights threatened to overwhelm them.

Silverstreak raised her chin, even as monsters buffeted them with their wind as they blew by; she refused to be cowed by fear of the unknown. As far as she could see, there was no danger here, unless she strayed in a monster's path or underneath a Twoleg's foot.

"How are we supposed to find cats to recruit?" Ravenwing asked nervously.

"It can't be that hard; this place is huge, there have to be plenty of them around," Silverstreak meowed. "We just have to find them, is all. Maybe StarClan is speaking to them for us; I'm sure they don't want us to fail…."

As they padded farther into the city, the buildings seemed to become taller and darker, the color of storm clouds; even Silverstreak became unnerved.

They padded down the twisted streets, and gradually the buildings became brighter again; ahead, Silverstreak could see little Twoleg nests in rows, with fences between them.

Ravenwing let out a sigh, and Silverstreak glanced at her questioningly.

"We came in a circle," Ravenwing meowed, flicking her tail towards one of the Twoleg houses, colored bright blue. "I remember that house."

Silverstreak didn't doubt Ravenwing's memory – she was the best for remembering things of importance, although she didn't always say so – but she didn't want to believe it.

"Are you sure?" Silverstreak asked, and Ravenwing nodded.

"Their Thunderpath is black, most of the others are white," she explained. "It has to be the same one."

Frostfeather's ears flattened. "We've wasted half the day wandering around for nothing?" she spat.

Silverstreak turned around, staring down the Thunderpath the way they had come. "We should have known, when the buildings started changing again," she sighed. She glanced up at the sky, frowning; it was well past sunhigh.

"By the time we get back into the heart of the place, it'll be nightfall," Ravenwing meowed. "I don't feel comfortable sleeping deep in Twolegplace, on the first day…until we know what's out here, I mean." She blinked at Silverstreak anxiously. Silverstreak's tail flicked with irritation.

"We should be moving; we don't have time to sit around," she meowed. Frostfeather's eyes narrowed.

"We're tired, Silverstreak, we've been traveling for days," she snapped. "Besides, where there are Twolegs, there are pet cats, right? Kittypets were always the greedy bad cats in our bedtime stories, but when it comes right down to it, we need every cat we can get, okay?"

Silverstreak blinked, surprised by the outburst. She let out a quiet breath. "Sorry," she meowed. "I just…really feel like we need to do this, like we need to give it our best effort, you know? StarClan entrusted us with this, we can't let them down."

"We understand," Ravenwing said quickly, glancing between Frostfeather and Silverstreak; it was obvious that if an argument started, Ravenwing would be torn between her sister and her friend. Silverstreak loved Frostfeather to death, but it seemed that when they were in such close proximity to each other, they were liable to come head-to-head.

"Let's just get moving," Silverstreak meowed, padding towards the neat Twoleg nests. "We can hop on those wood-things and see if we run into any cats." She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Ravenwing and Frostfeather were following; they were, but Frostfeather was looking surly.

Silverstreak blinked up at the fence and crouched. She imagining it as a smooth, silver branch and sprang forward, landing easily. She moved forward a few tail-lengths to give Frostfeather and Ravenwing room to climb up as well. She started down the fence, holding her thick tail out for balance. She looked into the opposite yard curiously, but found nothing that could suggest cats living there; no dirt, claw marks, scents, nothing. She continued down the fence, peering into each yard curiously as they passed.

Suddenly, Ravenwing stiffened as her keen ears picked up a strange sound; that, along with her patience, was what made her such a good hunter. "Do you hear that?"

Frostfeather cocked her head to one side, listening. Her eyes widened. "It can't be…That stupid ball of fur!" She suddenly sprang forward, over Silverstreak's head, dashing down the fence. Bewildered, Silverstreak raced after her, as her ears finally picked up what Ravenwing and Frostfeather had heard.

"Come on, Blossom, don't me mad," a familiar voice pleaded, just a few nests ahead of them. "I said I was sorry, didn't I? You're the only girl for me, honest." The voice pause, as if the tom was listening. "Come on, just yowl to your Twolegs to open the door, _please? _I'm _starving _here!"

Frostfeather came to a stop, glaring into one yard. Silverstreak followed her gaze and saw Death, crouched in front of the entrance of a Twoleg nest. He blinked at them in surprise, and fear flitted over his face before he quickly composed himself.

"There are three of you, huh?" he asked, his tone indicating surprise. "And all three of you are beautiful, too. Although, I still think you're the prettiest, sweets." He gave Frostfeather a wink, but it only seemed to make her angry.

"So do you just use she-cats to get whatever you want?" she spat. "Is Blossom just another one of your lovers?"

"Not anymore," Death said cheerily. "Especially not after hearing this bit, which she certainly has, huh?"

Silverstreak saw a movement out of the corner of her eye; Ravenwing's whiskers had twitched, possibly with amusement.

"What a coincidence, us finding you here," Silverstreak meowed. "Almost as if it was meant to be."

Death blinked slowly. "What do you mean?" His gaze turned suspicious. "Are you trying that Clan thing again?"

"Yes, I think we are," Silverstreak said with a quiet laugh.

Death's gaze darted around quickly, before his jaw dropped. "Oh my!" he squeaked. With a reaction born of trusting her Clanmates when they spotted danger, Silverstreak turned. When she turned back, Death was up on the fence and running, with Frostfeather on his heels. Alarmed, Silverstreak and Ravenwing took off after him, running along the fence.

Death seemed to know the fences like the back of his paw, the way he moved through the intersections and avoided the dead-ends with ease. Frostfeather was beginning to lose steam; she was made for short, quick burst, while her sister held on for the long run. Ravenwing would have caught Death by now, but she was stuck behind Silverstreak.

The fence suddenly ended in a dead end. Frostfeather smiled, surely thinking she had Death, but the tom made a spectacular leap, landing on a fence just ahead, roughly ten tail-lengths ahead of them. Frostfeather prepared to leap after him, but stopped as her eyes widened, seeing something between the fences. As Silverstreak reached her, she realized why Frostfeather hadn't jumped; three huge dogs lay in between them, barking furiously with saliva dripping from their mouths. Behind her, Silverstreak heard Ravenwing let out a squeak of alarm.

Death smirked at them over the heads of the howling dogs.

"Sorry, sweets, but I can't join your Clan-thing," he called. "My life sucks, but at least it's my own; I don't owe it to anyone, and I don't intend to." He sat down, tail flicking slowly. Silverstreak realized his mistake even before the dogs did.

"Your tai—" she started to warn him, but she was too late; one of the dogs leaped up farther than she would have thought possible for such lumbering creatures, and grabbed Death's tail in his jaws. Death's smug expression transformed to one of pain and then horror as the dog yanked him down from the fence.

Surprisingly, it was Frostfeather who sprang forward first, landing onto the attacking dog's back and biting at his neck. Instantly, Ravenwing and Silverstreak launched themselves forward onto the other two dogs. Silverstreak felt her claws dig into the dog's short, black fur, and the creature let out a yelp of pain. The dog attacking Death released him and he scrambled away from the fight, huddling in the corner of the yard, trembling.

It was a fight the she-cats knew they couldn't win, not against such massive beasts, but they did their best, keeping their grip on the dogs' backs as well as they could. Silverstreak caught a glimpse of Frostfeather grabbing one of the dog's soft ears in her mouth and biting down, while Ravenwing clawed the dog's muzzle savagely.

Seeing that Death had gotten free, Silverstreak yowled, "Jump! Run!"

He was terrified, staring at her with wide, horrified eyes, expecting to see the three she-cats killed.

"Jump, idiot!" Frostfeather snarled, and letting out a yelp as she lost her grip on the dog, falling to the ground. She was frozen for a moment, winded, as the dog prepared to grab her. With a fierce cry, Ravenwing sprang forward, aiming for the dog's face to distract him and allow Frostfeather time to escape. Frostfeather ran towards Death, grabbing him by the scruff and shaking him in hopes to wake him from his terror. His eyes seemed to clear, and he gazed at her for a moment before the two of them sprang onto the fence. Ravenwing landed and then sprang upwards as well, her tail barely clearing the dog's seeking jaws. The two dogs snapped fruitlessly at the three cats, allowing Silverstreak a moment to coil her muscles on the dog's thick back and leap as well, landing on the fence. She almost collapsed, panting with relief; the dogs couldn't reach them here, so long as they didn't get too close. The three dogs stared up at them, their brown eyes glinting with malice, barking and jumping at them.

"W-we should g-get out of here," Death stammered, weak after his close encounter with his own death. "B-before the Twolegs are d-disturbed." He was shaking still, despite being safe.

"Show us the way," Silverstreak ordered. Death simply blinked at her, and Silverstreak thought she saw a gleam of gratitude, before Death turned and padded away, down the fence. Even as he walked, there was a slight tremor in his long legs. Again, Silverstreak marveled at his condition; he didn't have a scrap of fat or even muscle on his emaciated body.

"There's a safe nest where we can stay for awhile," Death rasped, "the Twolegs are gone for a few days, they go every year."

The she-cats said nothing, simply followed him as he sprang down into a little yard. Feeling the safety of grass on her paws, Silverstreak let out a breath of relief. They were safe. She almost collapsed on the ground, as did Frostfeather and Ravenwing.

"You were fierce," Silverstreak meowed to Ravenwing, purring despite herself. Frostfeather nosed her sister's flank.

"Thanks," the white she-cat said, but Ravenwing flicked her tail dismissively.

"It was nothing," Ravenwing meowed, and then, remembering Death, the three she-cats turned to blink at him. He was still on his feet, and the way his eyes flicked towards the fence, it seemed as if he was torn between staying or leaving.

"I guess your life isn't your own now; we saved it," Frostfeather pointed out. Death's ears flattened, but he said nothing.

"Being in a Clan doesn't mean we own you," Silverstreak informed him. "It just means you have a family, someone you can depend on when things get tough."

"I have cats like that," Death said defensively, but his eyes told her that he was lying.

Ravenwing gazed at Death with a gentle look in her green eyes. She reached out to touch his tail; he flinched at the sensation. Perhaps, despite his charming ways, he had not really touched a she-cat, or any other cat for that matter, in moons.

"We're not going to hurt you," Ravenwing mewed, "and we're not going to force you to do anything, either. Your life is your own, and we can't change that. It's up to you what you want to do, Death."

Again, Death flinched, although this time it was at the name. "That's not my name," he growled. "It was just something I made up for myself, to make me…to make me sound stronger than I was."

"What's your name?" Silverstreak asked, and Death looked away from the three of them.

"I don't remember," he said softly. "Most cats just call me Black, or Night…but those aren't my name either. I don't know what my mother named me, she left me when I was…very young. I bounced around from group to group; no one wanted me for long."

Frostfeather's gaze softened for a moment, but she quickly hardened her again. "We don't have a family either, so don't feel sorry for yourself," she said icily. Silverstreak flicked her tail at the white she-cat.

"We had a family, up until the last moon," Silverstreak reprimanded her. "It sounds like Death—like _he _didn't have anyone." She turned to Death, her blue eyes calm. "Are you going to join us, then? We can offer you a family."

"They all said that," Death replied, still not looking at her.

"We promise it," Silverstreak meowed back. "A Clan is a family that will never desert you, no matter what. If you want to join us, you're a Clan cat for life. You'll never be alone again."

Death's voice was whisper-soft when he finally answered. "I'd like that."

. . .

The three warriors went hunting hours later, but came back mostly empty-pawed; Silverstreak managed to bring back a small mouse and Frostfeather a sparrow. Ravenwing had two little birds that Silverstreak hadn't seen before; apparently some Twolegs wanted birds in their yard, for whatever reason.

Ravenwing shared one of her birds with Death, and the four of them ate silently, although Death's eyes were always on at least one of the she-cats.

"So," Death asked slowly, "why are you building a Clan? I thought you came from one?"

Silverstreak chewed, and then swallowed. "Our Clan was taken over by another, a wild Clan led by a brute named Northstar," she explained. "StarClan – our gods, good warriors that die and walk the stars – gave me the mission of rebuilding BirchClan somewhere else. We're looking for cats who want to join us on this mission."

Death blinked. "So you're entire Clan is gone? Meaning that the three of you are single?" His golden eyes glowed, and then he glanced at Frostfeather, seeming almost saddened. "Except for you I guess, sweets."

Frostfeather quickly looked down at her sparrow, but Silverstreak blinked; what did Death mean, that Frostfeather wasn't single? Frostfeather had never had a true mate; she had liked playing around, liked being free of being pinned down to just one tom. She'd broken several hearts, too, and she never spoken to Silverstreak about loving anyone. Why wouldn't she tell her closest friend?

"I have a mate," Ravenwing meowed, a slight growl to her voice. "Eaglestrike."

Death's eyes darted about, as if Eaglestrike would appear from nowhere to punish him for flirting with his mate.

"He isn't here," Ravenwing said softly, "but he'll find us again, eventually."

Death's golden eyes turned to Silverstreak, but she narrowed her own icy blue eyes back ant him, and he quickly looked away.

"Where are we going next?" Death asked.

"We're going to try and find our way out of this Twolegplace, I suppose," Silverstreak replied with a slight yawn. "While trying to find more cats to join us, of course."

Death simply nodded and then yawned, stretching. "I think I'm done for the night," he said sleepily, and then smiled at them. "Any of you lovely ladies want to curl up beside me and keep me warm?"

"We're good, thanks," Frostfeather meowed icily. Death shrugged.

"Suit yourselves," he purred, resting his head on his paws. Within moments, faster than it seemed it should be possible, he was asleep.

"I don't think he'll be good for the Clan," Frostfeather growled, once it was apparent that Death was no longer awake. "He's so lazy, and just…ugh."

Silverstreak smiled at Frostfeather. "Just give him a chance; he's a lonely tom out here all on his own. He deserves a chance, at the very least."

"Fine, but if he makes one more comment, I'm going to slice his stupid face off," Frostfeather hissed, burying the remains of her sparrow and curling up to sleep. Silverstreak watched Frostfeather with a slight smile on her face, before blinking up at the stars.

_How are we doing, StarClan?_

She received no reply, and she didn't expect to; StarClan might not even walk these skies, for all she knew.

She yawned, resting her head on his paws and blinking slowly. _What did Death mean that Frostfeather was taken? _She wondered. _Can he smell something on her that I can't? It would make sense, for toms to know who had a mate just by scent, so they could know who to mate with…but shouldn't he have scented something on Ravenwing then, too?_

Something occurred to Silverstreak, but she pushed the thoughts away; Frostfeather would never be so foolish. With a quiet sigh, Silverstreak closed her eyes, forcing her tense muscles to relax. Death said they were safe here, and she believed him; tomorrow they would continue their journey, and find more cats to join them. Eventually, they'd have enough cats for a Clan, and then they would….She didn't know what they would do then. Would they attempt to reclaim their old territory? Or try to find their own new territory, and leave FrozenClan be? Neither seemed ideal, but Silverstreak couldn't make any plans yet; she'd just have to wait and see how things turned out, as much as that bothered her.

She realized she had tensed up again, and forced herself to relax once more, taking a deep breath. Gradually, she felt herself slipping away, as the troubled thoughts in her mind receeded.

. . .

Silverstreak awoke to the scent of prey. She blinked slowly and opened her eyes just a crack, only for them to open fully as she saw Frostfeather devouring a plump mouse. The white she-cat was turned away from Silverstreak and didn't realize that she was awake. Silverstreak quickly narrowed her eyes again, feigning sleep, watching as Frostfeather finished the mouse and buried it quickly, before beginning to lick her stomach. There was a strange look on her face, almost tender, and Silverstreak closed her eyes, trembling. The thought that she had pushed away the night before came roaring back into her mind,

_Frostfeather was pregnant._

Not only that, but she had to be almost a moon pregnant, the signs didn't show until around a moon's time. Before then, a she-cat might lick her stomach often, feel ill, or be very hungry, but that could be attributed to many other factors. Only after about a moon did the belly begin to swell. Cracking open her eyes to look closer, Silverstreak could indeed see the tiniest swelling of Frostfeather's stomach, so small that she hadn't even noticed at first.

Fury blazed inside of Silverstreak, and she sprang to her paws, making Frostfeather's jaw drop in surprise.

"How could you not tell me?" Silverstreak demanded. Frostfeather didn't try to deny it; her gaze slipped away from Silverstreak's blazing eyes.

"We didn't want you to be angry," a quiet voice said. Silverstreak swung her head over to see Ravenwing awake as well, blinking at Silverstreak anxiously.

"You knew about it too?" Silverstreak growled.

"I was once on the path to becoming a medicine cat," Ravenwing said calmly. "Of course I noticed the signs."

"How _could _you?" Silverstreak hissed to Frostfeather. "How could you go off and mate without telling me?"

"Please," Frostfeather said dismissively, flicking her tail carelessly. "I used to do it all the time, Silverstreak; it was no big deal, all the toms knew it didn't mean anything. This time I was just unlucky, I guess…or lucky, depending on how you see it. It was the full moon, Silverstreak; back before ShellClan fell, before we were even threatened. Everyone knew MarshClan had been beaten, but no one knew who else was going to fall next; everyone thought Northstar would be satisfied, remember?"

Silverstreak's tail lashed. "At least they're BirchClan kits," she meowed, trying to find the good side in all this; with Frostfeather pregnant, travel would be almost impossible. Their journey could be set back by moons.

Frostfeather's gaze darted away again.

"You can't be serious!" Silverstreak spat. Frostfeather's ears flattened.

"We were at the Gathering, and there was this totally hot ShellClan tom…his fur was like fire, it was amazing, and we snuck away while the leaders had everyone's attention…." She sighed. "Some of them could be BirchClan kits, though, you remember Jaywing. He was totally sweet, and more skilled than you might have thought…he had a crush on you, but you said I could have him, remember, you didn't care?"

Silverstreak was shaking. "Do you have any idea what you've done, Frostflight? Not only did you break the warrior code, you had kits with _two different toms _from _two different Clans!_ And you!" She turned to Ravenwing, who flinched. "You didn't even tell me, Ravenwing! We were supposed to be friends!"

Ravenwing's shoulders drooped. "We didn't want to make you angry; we weren't completely sure, you know, sometimes it seems like there are kits but there aren't…."

Silverstreak began pacing back and forth. "There are herbs that can take care of this though, right? It probably isn't too late…did you learn about them, Ravenwing?"

Frostfeather rose to her paws, her own green eyes narrowed. "This isn't your choice, Silverstreak," she hissed. "These are my kits; I'm not going to let you kill them. Why does it matter who the father is? ShellClan or BirchClan, it shouldn't matter so long as they have Clan blood flowing through their veins! I won't let you harm my kits!"

"You're going to set us back for moons with your stupid actions!" Silverstreak snarled. "Within a week, you'll be too big to move, and then we'll have to wait three more moons until the kits themselves are strong enough to walk. Who knows what will happen in that time? Northstar is out there, he could be after us right now! Crowtalon might try to track us down! You're putting us all in danger."

"Go on without me then, if your journey means so much to you," Frostfeather said hotly. "Turn your back on your friends for your precious BirchClan!"

"My _friends _wouldn't hide this from me!" Silverstreak shot back.

"A _friend _would understand!" Frostfeather insisted. "You're too caught up in your journey and your own importance to care about us! All you do is push push push. You almost bit Ravenwing's head off yesterday because she was nervous about sleeping in the dangerous parts of Twolegplace!"

Silverstreak's ears flattened, but in the back of her mind, she knew Frostfeather was right. "Maybe I will go alone, then, if that's what you want."

"Maybe you should." Frostfeather turned away from her. Ravenwing's eyes darted between the two of them, her eyes round with fear.

"Good luck with your half-breed kits," Silverstreak spat, and before she lost her nerve, she sprang onto the fence. "Come and find me when your precious half-Clan darlings can do more than stumble around and drool!" With that, she stalked away without a backwards glance.

Death lay unmoving on the grass, still sleeping soundly with his ears of stone.

. . .

_I don't need them, _she fumed, padding down the dark streets. _Who said I needed them? No one! Frostfeather is welcome to her stupid kits for all I care; she'll be in good company with that idiotic Death._ Her stomach rumbled, and she frowned. _If only Ravenwing had come with me; maybe then I could actually catch some food. _She felt a twinge of loneliness, but pushed it away firmly; if Frostfeather wanted to throw their mission away for some stupid kits, that was her decision; Silverstreak wasn't going to give up her mission.

_I can build a Clan without them, _she thought sourly. _I'll find my own warriors my way. I don't need them. _

Her thoughts weren't as convincing as they had been when she left.

The buildings were dark and gray once more, telling her that she was deep in the maze that was Twolegplace. She clenched her jaw stubbornly; she wouldn't be afraid, and she wouldn't run back to traitorous Frostfeather and pathetic Ravenwing. She would find her own way through these twisted streets.

Several times she thought she heard pawsteps behind her, but when she turned there was no one there. Her pelt prickled, but she explained the noises as paranoia; without the others, she didn't have anyone to help keep her guard up.

Her hunger could finally be denied no longer, and she ducked into a small alley; the smells of which promised mice, or at least rats. She padded forward cautiously, scenting the air nervously, her blue eyes piercing the shadows the Twoleg nests cast. She saw the tiniest twitch of a little mouse ear and crouched, creeping forward silently, her paws barely brushing the ground. She froze for a moment, and then lunged. The mouse let out a squeal as her claws dug into its fur, but it wiggled out of her grasp, squeaking. It stood a few tail-lengths away, trembling. Silverstreak's eyes narrowed, not understanding why it stayed, until she brushed back the trash from its nest; huddled inside were a pawful of tiny mouse babies.

_Excellent, _Silverstreak thought, and turned back to the mother mouse, preparing to spring again. The mouse let out a terrified squeak and dashed away, a little gray blur against the dark ground, disappearing. Frowning, Silverstreak turned to see what had scared it off.

Her eyes widened as she saw a broad-shouldered tom at the end of the alley, the sunlight casting a halo around his fur, although his face was hidden. The two of them stared at each other, frozen, until slowly the tom took a step forward.

**AN: Someone pointed out during Snatched that a litter can have more than one father; that's what's going on with Frostfeather's.**

**Oh no! Is that Northstar in the alley, or some other cat?**

**I'm literally posting this five minutes before I have to leave, so I can have something to look forward to when I get back. See you, at earliest on Wednesday! Yay, cliffie!**


	8. C h a p t e r 7: Northstar

**AN: I'm back. :D**

**Sorry this has taken so long; I got home really late on Thursday, so I've been working on this for Friday, Saturday.**

**Someone said that Silverstreak's sort of like the mother who wants her teenager to abort the child; she's sort of right, since Silverstreak is the oldest of the three, and therefore the kind of 'mother' to them, at least compared to Frostfeather and Ravenwing. She cares a lot for them, but she's a little confused right now; she can't bear the thought of betraying BirchClan, and it feels to her as if Frostfeather betrayed them as well.**

**Northstar still refers to himself as Northstar, despite the fact that he doesn't have nine lives or even a Clan to rule (the exact reasons why everyone refers to Eaglestar as Eaglestrike). However, in his mind he still believes himself to be leader of FrozenClan, irrationally. After the work and care he put into gaining power, he can't believe that Crowtalon could take it all away so suddenly; in the back of his mind, he still believes he can win FrozenClan back somehow. He is also a little conceited, and knows that 'star' shows strength, power, and control of others, everything he has always wanted. For these reasons, he is keeping the name, at least when he thinks of himself, instead of Northwind, his true name. **

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**7: Northstar**

He licked his whiskers clean of the blood, and then studied the bones between his paws. After a slight hesitation, he gave into the habit and began crunching the bones in his jaws, licking out the marrow; this Twolegplace was a strange place to be, and although in some parts mice and rats were plentiful, in other areas it might not be the case. Either way, he would be careful, cautious.

He crushed the skull between his jaws and then stood, leaving the bones in a pile; he couldn't dig into the thick, strange floor of the alley, after all.

He opened his mouth, catching what scents he could. None of them spoke to him of Silverstreak, or her two little friends, and he let out a soft sigh.

How many days had it been since his banishment? He went over them in his mind. The day after he killed the following patrol, he had been forced to leave the tunnels completely; Crowtalon would know which cats had come back, and would send out more patrols accordingly. The tunnels were no longer safe. And yet, Northstar couldn't bring himself to leave the territory; he had hung around the mountains for the rest of that day and the next, hoping beside himself that somehow FrozenClan would change and welcome him back, if they could find him. And yet, when he encountered patrols (in hiding, of course, his white pelt blending in with the cold mountains) they spoke of strange things that he didn't understand, of changes, of TalonClan…and he knew he had lost his Clan forever.

It had taken him a total of four days to cross the southern mountains, but once he found himself in the pine forest, he realized he didn't know where he would go. Where did his fate lie? Brackenheart, his once-adored mentor, had acted as if StarClan had turned away from Northstar. If they did not guide his paws, then who would? For the first time, Northstar had felt lost, and small. And then the next day, salvation in the form of a scent had reached him, as he realized he had caught Silverstreak and her friends. He didn't know where they were going, and indeed even they themselves didn't quite seem to know, but it didn't matter; he had a quarry, he had a mission, he had a purpose. He followed them to the lake, although he had left to hunt for himself when they split up, only to return as they came together again, Silverstreak with a kit. There he had heard of their mission as they explained it to the kit and offered it a place in their Clan, and Northstar realized his own mission: to stop the BirchClan cats from succeeding. It was petty, but it was all he had, and he clung to it as if it was all that was keeping him from being swept away and drowning in hopelessness, and perhaps it was.

He had followed Silverstreak and the white one into the forest, only to be frozen as he thought he had been noticed; he was saved by a simpleton, of all things, a tom controlled by his hormones who foolishly flirted with the two of them before fleeing. Their feelings of being watched soothed, Silverstreak and Frostfeather had hunted and then returned to their black friend and the kit.

And then, puzzlingly, they had headed into the Twolegplace nearby, to try and collect cats for their cause. Northstar scoffed at the idea – kittypets that were soft like those in the stories, paired with rough street cats did not a Clan make – but he followed them fearlessly, the thick grass hiding his eyes and scent from the foolish she-cats.

It was when they had entered the Twolegplace that he had lost them; in a maze of Thunderpaths and Twoleg paws, they had managed to escape him, although he doubted they even had any idea of their white shadow. He had been unable to find them again – the Twolegplace scents were so puzzling to his nose, used to the clear air of the mountains – and he was worried. If he couldn't find them, how could he possibly succeed in his mission? Silverstreak could not be allowed to resurrect BirchClan from the ashes, for this time Northstar would not be able to conquer it.

Still, he still had some comfort; he knew they would not return back to the lake, as that would be pointless and counter-productive. He knew they would exit the Twolegplace somewhere else, then; not north the way they had come, but east, west, or south. And, he assumed that south would be the most inviting; south gave the illusion of moving farther away from FrozenClan and the troubles there. South sounded warm and inviting to forest-cat ears, and once Silverstreak had satisfied her need for Twolegplace-cats, south was where she would lead her makeshift Clan.

He would just have to get there first, was all. But that was the main question on his mind, as he caught his prey, stripped it of its flesh, and licked the marrow from its bones: How could he find south?

He would have to enlist the help of a street-cat himself, he reflected; only they would know the layout of the city. Silverstreak would need the help of one too, but certainly if she was recruiting them, then they would show her the way. This made it even more necessary for him to have speed; if Silverstreak had already found a street-cat to show her the way, she might already be gone.

He licked his chest clean of bone-fragments and blood, and then rose to his paws, opening his mouth again, seeking the slightest scent of cat. He found none, and so he exited the alley, keeping his mouth open and his eyes peeled.

He padded down the street, keeping out of reach of the Twoleg's flailing bodies, his fur flattened along with his ears. He didn't like the feeling this place gave him, of smallness and unimportance. He was Northstar, after all, conqueror of forest Clans and ruler of the mightiest Clan of all. Crowtalon's rule was only temporary, TalonClan or no TalonClan; when the time was right, when Northstar had destroyed any hope of Silverstreak's rebuilding of BirchClan, he would seize power again. He only had to wait and bide his time wisely, not be foolish and weaken himself.

It was sunhigh before a scent reached his nose, and he approached a second alley with caution. He could smell cats, but the numbers and genders he could not identify. Carefully, he padded into the alley, his eyes peeled for danger. His ears suddenly pricked, as angry voices reached his ears; the cats were clearly having some sort of dispute.

"I'm warning you! Back off!"

Northstar stopped at the sound of the shout – a she-cat's voice, perhaps? – and stared down the alley. Three leering toms appeared to be surrounding a brown tabby she-cat. There was fear in her bright green eyes, but she was bristling, and it was clear she wouldn't run away, even if she could.

The tip of Northstar's tail twitched, and for a moment he considered just padding away; these toms weren't friendly enough to help him find south, and this she-cat was certainly in no position to help either. However, the she-cat spotted him, and her eyes widened with something that looked like hope. One of the toms, a leering black cat, followed her gaze to Northstar. He bared his fangs.

"We've already got this one," he growled. "Go find your own."

For a moment, Northstar was still; his appearance was unique. If Silverstreak caught wind of a cat with white fur and black paws, there would be no question that it was him, and that he was after her. If he fled, these toms would surely speak of him as they bragged about their conquest of this tabby she-cat, which could reach Silverstreak's ears and alert her of her pursuer. These cats were not intimidated, and thus having nothing to fear, they wouldn't even think about chattering about him.

He would have to remedy that.

Northstar sprang forward, much too quickly and unexpectedly for the black tom to react. There was a spray of crimson as Northstar's claws met the tom's throat, but Northstar was already lunging at a second tom, wounding him deeply in the shoulder, before turning to face the third. He didn't even have to bother the last tom; the she-cat had taken advantage of his attack and had leaped on the third tom, raking her claws down his back. Northstar glanced behind him, seeing the black tom dead and the second tom struggling to stand. Northstar ran at the second tom again, feinting right before running along his left side, claws outstretched. He left a long gash down the length of the second tom's side. The tom let out a wail of pain and turned, trying to limp away, only to find himself facing Northstar again. Northstar smiled, a chilling smile, and his fangs met the tom's throat.

He dropped the tom before he was even dead, gurgling on the floor of the alley, before turning towards the third tom. The she-cat had taken care of him; it was clear he would not rise again.

Northstar met her eyes coolly; she was staring at him with a strange expression on her face, a mixture of gratitude and fear, but there was also something else in her eyes – admiration?

"Thank you," she said warmly, and then shivered. "Those toms…wouldn't have been kind."

"I imagine not," Northstar said, glancing at the sky quickly; if he couldn't find a cat to help him, he'd just have to wait until nightfall and observe where the north star was.

He blinked, realizing the she-cat was sniffing at him. "You don't appear to be injured…but you smell strange," she said with a frown. "Where are you from?"

Northstar's eyes narrowed, and the she-cat glanced away. "Right, you don't want to talk about it. I understand. Lots of cats who find their way here are like that. I'm Natasha; it's nice to meet you, although it wasn't in the way I expected to meet anyone remotely friendly…." She blinked slowly.

"I need help," he said bluntly. "I'm trying to go south; there's forest to the south where I plan on living. I can find my way with the north star, but working my way through the streets is more difficult than I'd like."

"You need a guide," she smiled in understanding. "It's the least I can do for you; you're actually pretty close."

Northstar blinked in surprise. "How do you know?"

She let out an amused purr. "We don't all have the luxury of sitting around waiting for the stars to shine," she laughed. "We have to keep landmarks, you know, so we know where we're going and that we're on the right path. I was born here; I know my way around. Mitch will be a little worried if I don't come back before nightfall…but that's okay!" She said quickly, noticing Northstar's tension at the mention of another cat. "We should just go ahead and go, then; it's more dangerous here at night."

Northstar stepped to the side, flicking his tail for her to pass. She smiled at him and padded down the alley, towards the Thunderpath. Northstar followed, careful to keep a short distance between them. She walked with confidence, despite the attack moments before. It was strange; she seemed almost confident, as if she embraced the danger of the Twolegplace.

She navigated her way through the Thunderpaths easily, turning right and left without hesitation. She must have memorized all of her landmarks perfectly, for ever so often she would stop and nod towards a Twoleg nest identical to all of the others, and continue down her path.

Northstar was nervous of Natasha leading him into some sort of trap, but she would have no reason to; he had saved her life. Even once the toms had been satisfied, they probably would have killed her anyway; toms that used she-cats for pleasure were brutal and cruel. Northstar had never had the appetite for pure cruelty, for using his own strength to shatter fragile hearts. Conquering the Clans was one thing; he would have lead them into prosperity and greatness under his stone paws, whether they wanted to be led or not. It was his destiny.

Or, at least it had been once.

The increasing passing of monsters moved Northstar out of his reverie. They must have been nearing the end of Twolegplace, for the monsters were all crowded together with no other available paths; they were fighting their way out of the Twolegplace, struggling to get out before the others.

Natasha stopped, and glanced at Northstar, a smile on her face. "Just follow the road," she said, flicking her tail at the Thunderpath that stretched into the distance. Tracing it with his gaze, Northstar saw that it eventually left the buildings behind.

"Follow it for a bit, and eventually you'll see forest on your right," Natasha instructed him. Northstar nodded.

"Thank you," he replied, and Natasha smiled.

"No, thank you," she purred, and winked at him. "Good luck."

She turned to go, and Northstar called after her,

"It would be honorable of you to not speak of my presence. I have…enemies."

Natasha glanced at him over her shoulder. "Yeah, sure. I'll keep my mouth shut."

Northstar nodded and turned back to the Thunderpath. The rushing of monsters made his fur crawl, but as long as he stayed away from the Thunderpath, he would be safe.

The Twoleg path soon vanished underneath his paws, but there was grass to meet him. The Thunderpath seemed to be almost raised; there was a gentle slope covered in grass beside it. If he wanted to, he could go down it, but it was easier to see from the Thunderpath's slightly raised surface.

He kept his mouth shut and took shallow breaths, trying to keep the monster smell at bay, although it was difficult. It wasn't until nightfall that he finally saw the trees in the distance. He padded down the grassy slope, leaving the Thunderpath behind, and into the forest.

Instantly the monsters' din and stink disappeared, much to the relief of his ears and nose. He couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh, and found himself flopping down on the soft earth, nestling himself in the fallen leaves. Without quite meaning to, he fell asleep.

. . .

The next order of business was obviously to find where exactly he was. He was in a forest, yes, but who else lived here? How large was it? How was the prey running, and the predators as well?

He managed to catch a mouse early in the morning, giving him strength to scout out as much of the territory as he could. He padded through the forest, keeping low to the ground and wary of any sort of threat.

The forest was perfect for cats, Northstar realized; it was lush, rich in prey, and full of silver birch trees and other trees that had been in BirchClan's territory. There was no doubt that once Silverstreak made it out of the Twolegplace, this is where she would bring her Clan to recreate their lives. His lip curled at the thought. He couldn't allow this to happen, but what could he do? It wasn't as if he had an army of his own, not anymore.

For a brief moment the idea of joining Silverstreak flitted through his mind, but it extinguished itself. He wouldn't stoop to her pathetic level, and even if he tried there was no way she would ever accept him, considering that he was responsible for the death of her parents and the destruction of her Clan. No, throwing his lot in with hers would be a foolish decision, and likely one that would be short-lived.

The sound of rushing water suddenly reached his ears, and realizing how thirsty he was, he followed it. A river greeted him, a churning mass of white water. Looking upstream, he could see the source, a magnificent waterfall on the top of some sort of rocky formation. It wasn't very high, but it was flat on the top, for he could see trees growing atop it. An interesting place, and perhaps one that he would investigate later.

He surveyed the water closely, trying to see where it would be safest to drink. Spray from the river quickly collected on his whiskers, and with an amused smile, he thought he could just lick them and get all the water he required.

He padded farther downstream, where the river was wider and slightly calmer. Springing down onto a rock worn smooth by the mist and water, he began lapping, tasting both forest sweetness and the slight chill that came from water in higher places; it was delicious on his tongue, and he found himself filling his belly with it eagerly, guzzling like a kit at his mother's stomach. Sated, he took a step back, looking at the rock formation again. From far away, it looked like a pillar of stone; intrigued, he glanced around for some way to cross. He padded farther upstream, but could not find a log or other body to allow him to cross safely; only a point where the river was thin, perhaps thin enough to leap over. The water rolled and churned beneath him mightily, and he felt a prickle of apprehension, but forced it away as he crouched, feeling his muscles ripple. He wasn't forest-soft yet.

He sprang forward, clearing the river with inches to spare. Feeling somewhat pleased, he began padding back upstream, towards the formation. If there were other cats here, they would be living there; it was easily the safest and most defendable place he had yet seen.

He soon passed the place he had first seen the river from, and something else became visible, a slight over-hang on his side of the bank. _A cat could leap off of that to the bank nearest where I came, but not the other way around, _Northstar thought. As he grew closer, he could see something else on the over-hang; a crouched shape. Northstar stopped, nervous, but the shape did not move even as he began moving forward slowly.

It was a she-cat, that much he could see; her pelt was a strange pattern, gray dappled with darker gray and almost a blue color. Her stomach was large, and he noticed with some degree of surprise that she was heavily pregnant, very heavily.

_What is she doing here? _He wondered. _Surely no tom would let her out of his sight, like this? He would be taking care of her and his kits. And why would she be here? It seems that it would be quite dangerous, a queen near a river as wild as this._

His thoughts were broken as the queen slowly rose to her paws, almost painfully. Northstar moved forward without fear; she still hadn't seen him, and even when she did, she would be no threat; she couldn't fight or run in her condition.

She moved to the very edge of the over-hang, and peered over it with a look of mild curiosity on her face. It was only as Northstar was ten tail-lengths away that he could see the sorrow in her blue eyes, the heartbreak. His heart suddenly began pounding in his chest, as he realized why she was here, why she looked so sad: She was going to jump.

He cleared the ten tail-lengths in an instant, lunging forward just as her paws left the earth, as she plunged for the river, only to jerk to a stop and find herself in the grasp of a stranger. Northstar let out a grunt of pain as the queen swaying in his jaws like a kit, silent. It felt as if Northstar was trying to hold up a badger; his neck and shoulders cried out with the pain of it. Slowly, the weight began driving him forward. He dug his paws into the earth, but it was soft from the mist.

For a moment, he considered dropping her, letting her fall to her death. Then, the look of sorrow on her face before she dropped flashed through his mind again, and his eyes narrowed resolutely. Unsheathing his claws to better grip the ground, he slowly began moving backwards forcing his back paws to pull the rest of his body and hers back. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pulled her back onto the lip of the edge. All the while she was motionless and silent, staring into the distance with a glazed look on her face.

With a final heave, he pulled her back paws back onto solid ground, then collapsed, his sides heaving with exertion as he let her go. She flopped to the ground as if dead; only her slowly rising sides told him that she was still among the living.

It was several minutes before he had the breath to speak.

"What were you doing?" he growled, anger rising in his voice; this she-cat had nearly lost her own life, and cost her kits theirs as well.

She turned her head slowly towards him, her blue eyes glassy. She said nothing, simply stared.

"Are you going to do it again?" Northstar asked. "I'll just stop you again."

She blinked at him, and then slowly nodded. Northstar let out an angry growl.

"Why? Why are you not only throwing your own life away, but the lives of your kits? Don't they deserve a chance?" he demanded, bristling. This was the first time in a long time he had felt anger, true blazing anger. "Who are you to choose their fates for them?"

The she-cat glanced away from him, and he thought he saw a flash of guilt in her blue depths.

"There's nothing that could be worth that," Northstar said slowly. "Nothing can be worth killing your kits."

The she-cat was trembling, and Northstar saw he was getting through to her, if only for her kits. "Wait until they're born, until they can defend themselves," he said, lowering his voice to a gentle murmur; she was obviously fragile, broken in some way. "Give them the chance at life that every cat deserves."

Slowly, hesitantly, she nodded.

"What's your name?" he inquired softly.

"R…Rosedapple," she whispered. Northstar blinked in surprise; it was a warrior's name. Was she a warrior? Was there a Clan here? The thought hadn't occurred to him, but he knew he shouldn't have been surprised; the forest cats had to have come from somewhere, and where they had come there would be more cats, more Clans; StarClan would have spread their word as far as they could, right?

"Are you in a Clan? Are there more cats with names like yours?"

She blinked, seeming surprised to see that he knew of Clans. Slowly, she nodded again.

"Where?"

Rosedapple turned her muzzle towards the rocky formation. Taking that as his answer, Northstar nosed the queen to her paws.

"We need to take you home, then," he meowed, plans already whirling around his mind. He had saved the life of a warrior, of a queen full of precious kits; if that didn't get him into this Clan, nothing would. And from there, he was an apprentice away from deputy…and then nine lives away from leader…and that much closer to defeating Silverstreak and Crowtalon and winning FrozenClan back again. He smiled, his old cold smile, and flicked his tail to Rosedapple.

"Let's get you home."

. . .

Climbing the rock formation was easier than he would have thought; paths had been worn into the rock, clearly for the use of cats. It made sense; a rough climb would have been too difficult for Rosedapple, as she was obviously due to birth in days.

Rosedapple was silent for the entire trip, but Northstar was careful to travel behind her, in case she tried leaping from the path; he wasn't used to trusting cats purely on a nod or a word. It was slow going for the queen, but they eventually reached the top.

He was met immediately with the scent of a Clan; their camp was right on top of this rock formation, it appeared. Rosedapple didn't seem to be glad that she was home; if anything, she looked as if she wanted to race back to the river and finish what she had started.

Northstar's pelt was crawling with tension; he was prepared for a warrior to spring at him from behind, ahead, to the side, even from the trees above. He swallowed nervously, sheathing and unsheathing his claws as they drew closer to camp.

He glanced over his shoulder, looking behind them, only for a low growl to snap his head back around. He bared his fangs at the ginger warrior facing him.

"Who are you?" the ginger tom demanded.

"I could ask you the same question," Northstar growled back. He took a deep breath, sheathing his claws. "I'm simply bringing one of your Clanmates back to you."

"You stole her!" the ginger tom spat, and then blinked. "Clanmates? You know what our Clan is?"

Northstar glanced at Rosedapple, but she was staring at her paws; she would be no help. "Rosedapple here was going to throw herself into the river," he said simply; there was no reason to lie. "I stopped her and brought her back here. Now, I'd like to talk to your leader, if you don't mind."

The ginger tom let out a hiss, only to turn as a pale golden she-cat brushed her tail against his side, blinking at Northstar with a slight smile on her face.

"Don't be so tense, Foxclaw," she chided him gently. "Rosedapple, we're glad you're okay."

Rosedapple didn't respond, not even raising her head to face the two warriors. The golden she-cat turned to Northstar; her eyes were a brilliant green.

"I'm Fawncloud," she introduced herself, "and Foxclaw here is my mate. If what you say is true, Lightstar will want to see you. What is your name?"

"Northstar," he growled, forcing himself not to smirk at the surprise on both Fawncloud's and Foxclaw's faces at his name.

"Ah," Fawncloud said, glancing at Foxclaw, before flicking her tail. "Just follow me, please."

She brushed her tail against Foxclaw's ginger fur again, and the two of them padded towards their camp; Northstar was surprised that he had been right on it without even knowing it. Thick brambles had hidden the camp from him, but as he followed Fawncloud and Foxclaw between two logs lying on top of each other – there was a small gap between them – he found himself in their camp. He glanced around, spotting the different dens and marking them in his mind – good to know if he had to escape or fight his way out – and followed Fawncloud to one of the dens, a pile of branches that hid a small opening that dipped into the ground. Fawncloud disappeared into the den for a moment, reappearing with a golden tom that looked much like herself. Dipping her head respectfully, Fawncloud padded away.

"My sister tells me that you saved Rosedapple," the tom meowed to Northstar, who nodded. The tom dipped his head. "PeakClan thanks you for this. Rosedapple, I trust you are well?" He turned to the dappled queen, but she moved as if to hide behind Northstar; she was trembling. Lightstar's voice was cool as he addressed her, but there was something behind the thin veil; real concern, tension, and something else…but what?

_Rosedapple doesn't even want to look at him, _Northstar thought, _but he seems to care for her…I'd bet the kits are his. _The thought made him smile; saving the leader's kits would be worth plenty in Lightstar's eyes, maybe even in the eyes of StarClan. Northstar glanced at the sky. _Are you watching?_

_If they're Lightstar's kits, though, something must have happened between him and Rosedapple…something bad. _He met Lightstar's golden gaze, only to find that it was following another she-cat, a pale silver she-cat leaving what Northstar guessed was the medicine den, for she was chewing some sort of leaf.

_Borage leaves, _Northstar guessed. _Lightstar's in love with her…perhaps he and Rosedapple were in love once, but then he fell in love with this other she-cat…she's also pregnant with his kits now, I'm sure, but I wonder if he left Rosedapple before she knew she was pregnant? Or after?_

"Your name is Northstar?" Lightstar asked, snapping Northstar out of his thoughts. He nodded. "And you seem to know of the Clans…are you a Clan leader, somewhere else?"

Northstar's jaw clenched. "I was once," he said simply, unwilling to give anything else away. Lightstar nodded slowly, and Northstar had the feeling that he was being examined by the golden tom's piercing eyes.

"I assume you want something, for bringing Rosedapple back to us?" Lightstar asked. Northstar nodded slowly.

"If I might join your Clan, I would be honored," he said softly. "I'm not made to be a loner or a rogue; I need to live in a Clan, with other cats." He said it coldly, with a voice of ice. Lightstar's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded.

"If you were a leader of your Clan, you must have been a great and mighty warrior," he meowed. "PeakClan would be honored to have you among us."

Northstar blinked in surprise; it was easier than he had expected. Still, he smiled.

"Thank you."

Lightstar turned to Rosedapple. "You should have Graywing check you over," he said, but there was an edge to his voice; Rosedapple flinched at the name, her eyes full of sorrow again. Lightstar glanced at the other silver cat as he spoke, the one chewing the borage leaves, and Northstar's eyes widened.

_Graywing is their medicine cat…and she's pregnant! _He realized. _Lightstar left Rosedapple for their medicine cat! _He glanced at her; no wonder she was so depressed, so broken.

_StarClan turned away for me for seizing control of my Clan for everyone's benefit, and yet they give this fool nine lives for mating with his medicine cat? _Northstar thought furiously, his claws digging into the loose earth.

"I'm fine," Rosedapple said, her voice whisper-soft, like a bird's gentle chirp. "Really."

"You almost leaped from a cliff; you are most certainly not fine," Lightstar said, the edge back in his voice.

Rosedapple continued to stare at her paws, and Lightstar sighed.

"Go back to the nursery, then," he said tiredly, in dismissive tone. Rosedapple rose to her paws quickly and padded away, disappearing into a large den with a sandy entrance. Northstar watched her go, and then turned to Lightstar.

"So," he said slowly, "What is PeakClan, exactly? How large is your territory? I found no scents to mark it."

Lightstar flicked his tail dismissively. "We have no enemies and intruders are rare; who needs borders? We patrol when we feel like it; our territory is as far as we can pad in any direction in one day."

Northstar blinked in surprise again, and his eyes narrowed; what kind of loose Clan was this, where leaders mated with medicine cats and no borders, no patrols?

"Has it always been like this?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even, unassuming.

Lightstar shrugged. "As long as I can remember; StarClan hasn't objected, so why should it matter? With no enemies, why would we need to patrol?"

"Someday you might have enemies, and you'll need borders," Northstar said, astonished.

Lightstar let out an amused purr. "StarClan would never let that happen; they'll defend us from any enemy," he said, confidence in his mew. Northstar opened his mouth to object; after all, StarClan hadn't raised a paw to defend the forest Clans, ever loyal.

_It'll change when I lead this Clan, _he thought confidently.

"Where do I sleep?"

Lightstar flicked his tail towards what Northstar assumed was the warrior den. After a quick thanks, Northstar padded into the den and curled up, quickly falling asleep.

. . .

"He doesn't even have a nest!" a voice, high-pitched and feminine, squeaked.

"C-come on, we shouldn't d-d-d-isturb him," another voice stammered. Slowly, Northstar emerged from sleep and opened his eyes. He stared into the faces of two apprentices, very young ones that still wore their kit-fluff. One was a dusty golden brown, while the other was white splashed with soft gray. Northstar blinked in surprise, realizing that the white apprentice – the female – had only a stub of a tail.

"I injured it really bad when I was a kit," the female apprentice explained, seeing him staring at the stub. She twitched it playfully, wagging it. "I think I'll be Rabbit-tail when I'm a warrior, it sounds good, don't you think?"

Northstar glanced at the other apprentice, the dusty tom.

"I'm M-M-M-M…." The tom trailed off.

"Speak slowly, Mousepaw," Rabbitpaw meowed. Northstar noticed that she spoke very quickly, compared to Mousepaw's hesitant slowness.

"I'm M-M-Mousepaw," he said finally.

"Why did you wake me?" Northstar growled, trying to sound threatening. Mousepaw was obviously frightened – but then, he looked as if he would flee from his own shadow – but Rabbitpaw was not bothered.

"We were wondering why you didn't have a nest, you were just sleeping on the ground," she explained. "Where's your moss?"

"Where I came from, we had no moss," Northstar replied. Rabbitpaw's eyes widened.

"Where did you come from?" she asked eagerly. Northstar closed his eyes, ignoring her. He felt the gentle steps of Mousepaw as the nervous apprentice edged away, but to his irritation, Rabbitpaw remained.

"Your name is Northstar, right? The whole camp of you knows, even though Rosedapple didn't say a word. She's so quiet, you know? It's weird; I think she should have been Mousepaw's mother! He's my brother, you know. We're Fawncloud's and Foxclaw's kits. You already met them, didn't you? I think my mom likes you, but my dad doesn't. He doesn't like anyone though, not even me, I don't think! He's always snapping at Mousepaw for stuttering. I think it's a good thing parents shouldn't mentor their kits, right? Mousepaw would be a terrible apprentice for my father! Who was your father? What was his name? Was he a leader too? What did he look like? Was he white like you? I've never seen a cat like you, white with black paws. It's kind of weird. In a good way though, I mean, I kind of like it; your paws look cool. Why were you named Northstar? What does that mean? I mean, I know about the north wind, but wind doesn't look like cats! Was your warrior name Northwind? That would be so silly, don't you think! It wasn't, was it?"

"It was," Northstar grunted without opening his eyes. That shut her up, but only for a moment.

"Sorry!" she squeaked. "I'm sorry, really! I think it's a good name! I think Northwind's like the coolest name ever, honest! Really cool! Do you think Rabbit-tail is a cool name? I do. I think Mousepaw will be Mouseshadow, since he's scared of his own shadow. Wouldn't that be funny? Everyone would laugh at him, though, which would be bad…I think he'd be a good warrior if he was braver, don't you? I guess you don't really know him, so you can't judge, but if you knew him then you'd think so. I—"

"Will you kindly shut up," Northstar said icily, "and let me sleep?"

Rabbitpaw was quiet again. "Sorry," she said finally. "Father always says I talk too much. He says that Mousepaw talks too little and I talk too much, and that if we could divide the talking evenly between us, we'd be perfect. Oh, I'm doing it again! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She sounded upset, and Northstar opened his eyes. Her eyes were wide, and her face was anxious. "I'm leaving, don't be mad!" she said quickly, and before he could open his own mouth, she had already ran out of the den. Bemused, Northstar's eyes closed again.

This time, he was not disturbed.

**AN: In original role-play, Natasha's name was Sasha…and then the manga came out.**

**Northstar's interesting to write about; it's fun getting that bad-but-not-quite-evil vibe, but at the same time I often feel a certain stiffness when I'm writing with him; he's a bit old-fashioned and cold in that respect. **

**Rosedapple's name is a bit odd, but I like it; Rose could be for the swirls of her pelt, like a rosebud, cha? That's what I imagine, at least. Dapple is pretty self-explanatory, and when you put the name together you have a she-cat named for dapples shaped like roses. Beaut, at least in my opinion. ^_^**


	9. C h a p t e r 8

**AN: For all of those that guessed Buck was in the alley, you would have been right, but after consulting my timeline I realized that Buck being on the streets is Day 15, while Silverstreak in the alley is only Day 12. I ran into the same problem with Northstar; he was supposed to meet Belladonna & Robin on the way. Meh.**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**8**

Silverstreak let out a warning growl, and the tom stopped.

"Who are you?" she hissed.

"Relax, darling, I'm no creeper," the tom purred. His voice had a slight rasp to it, and he began moving forward again. As he grew closer, Silverstreak saw that he was a dark tabby tom, with a heavily scarred muzzle and scarred shoulders. His eyes were a bright green, and they blinked at her keenly. "The names Mitch. What's yours, sweetheart?"

His name-calling of 'darkling' and 'sweetheart' reminded her of Death flirting with Frostfeather. At the thought of her friend, Silverstreak's ears flattened.

"My name is Silverstreak."

"Silverstreak," Mitch repeated. "Interesting name, that one, I've never heard it before…Silverstreak….You look a little lost, sweetheart, and distressed too. Everything okay?"

"I was fine before you scared my prey away," Silverstreak said hotly.

"My apologies," Mitch meowed, and to her surprise, it sounded like he meant it. "I know a better alley for hunting though, if you'd like to follow me."

"No thanks," Silverstreak replied, turning back to the squirming baby mice. "I've got prey." She stared down at the pink, hairless things, and her stomach clenched; they were only babies, just kits…like Frostfeather's.

"I don't think you're gonna eat those, are you?" Mitch asked, a smile in his voice. "Come on with me, sweetie, I promise I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm tamer than most of the toms you'd find here, you can just ask Natasha."

"Natasha?" Silverstreak echoed.

"My friend, a she-cat like yourself, and I've never harmed a hair on her pelt. I won't hurt you either." He sounded earnest, and Silverstreak's stomach was still rumbling with hunger, so she nodded slowly.

"Fine, but if you try anything I'll rip your muzzle off," she growled, realizing how much she sounded like her fierce friend. A pang of loneliness hit her, but she forced it away; Frostfeather had made her choice.

Mitch flicked his tail and padded out of the alley, with Silverstreak trailing behind him. He padded down the Twoleg-Thunderpath with his tail held high, proudly for all to see. He walked with a smooth sort of confidence despite his scarred pelt, and Silverstreak couldn't help but give him a little grudging respect.

He soon turned into another alley, with Silverstreak still following him, although her pelt prickled with nervousness. At the end of the alley was a nest made of discarded scraps of cloth. Lying in the nest was a small tabby she-cat, who opened her green eyes and blinked at the two of them as they approached.

"Who is this?" the she-cat asked, uncurling.

"This is Silverstreak," Mitch introduced her, and flicked his tail at the tabby. "That's Natasha, just like I said."

Silverstreak blinked at Natasha, and then nodded slowly.

"You look lost," Natasha said sympathetically. She rose to her paws, padding towards the silver she-cat, giving her a slight sniff. Her eyes widened. "You smell like that other cat that I helped south!" she exclaimed.

"What other cat?" Silverstreak asked, her eyes narrowed. Natasha flinched.

"He or she said they didn't want to be talked about; they were running from someone, or something," Natasha explained. "He or she saved my life when these three toms were after me, like I told you, Mitch."

Mitch nodded. "Natasha showed this cat the way south yesterday, at its request," he elaborated. "Is there where you're headed?"

Silverstreak nodded thoughtfully. _Saving a she-cat is an honorable thing…not something Northstar would do,_ she decided. _Perhaps it was that Brownfur cat…or Silverstar of ShellClan…. _She smiled at the thought, remembering the old leader. Silverstar and Fadedstar had been good friends back when they were apprentices; Fadedstar told Silverstreak that she was named after the grizzled old tom. _I hope Silverstar made it here…maybe it could even be Eaglestrike? He could have left the forest after all, before we did. Maybe Ravenwing was wrong and he did get away…._She knew she was grasping at twigs, but the idea of seeing her foster-brother was a beautiful one; she missed him dearly.

"We can help you on your way then, can't we?" Natasha asked with a glance at Mitch. He nodded, smiling at the little tabby fondly.

Silverstreak blinked in surprise. "I've done nothing for you, though," she said slowly. "Why would you help me?" From what she had seen of Death, she had thought that street-cats would not be so helpful.

Mitch shrugged. "No reason why not; things are just fight-to-survive here, it isn't like we have much else to do."

"You could come with me," Silverstreak meowed quickly. "Both of you. I'm trying to rebuild my Clan, see, after it was taken over. I'm going to find a new home for the Clan, and then find other cats to help me build it."

Mitch and Natasha shared glances. "We're happy here," Natasha replied. "Live is hard, but it's good; living in a forest would be strange."

Mitch nodded. "Besides, if we left, who would guide the soft-feet through the city?" he asked with a smile. "You just rest; you look exhausted, sweetheart. Natasha and I will catch something."

They waved away her thanks and padded away together. Silverstreak noticed how Natasha's tail touched Mitch's flank, and she smiled.

It didn't take Mitch and Natasha very long to return; they knew the Twolegplace well, and they knew where the prey liked to run. They presented her with a mouse and another for the two of them to share; again she thanked them profusely, savoring the taste of the mouse. It tasted strange, somehow different from forest mice, but she was too ravenous to care.

Soon all that was left of the mice were bones, although to Silverstreak's surprise Natasha and Mitch ate those as well. Silverstreak gave them hers, watching as they cracked them open for the marrow.

"Life here must be hard," Silverstreak observed. "Where I come from, only the mountain cats have to eat the marrow of prey; in the forest, prey is easy to come by."

Mitch's whiskers twitched. "Still trying to get us to join your Clan?" he asked, but his voice held a teasing note to it. "This is just how it is here, darling. Things are rough and dangerous, but they're good." He swallowed, and then glanced at Natasha. "Are we taking her south?"

"Tomorrow," Natasha decided, licking her whiskers. "She can just rest, for now." She smiled at Silverstreak warmly. "Trust me, honey, you're safe."

Silverstreak blinked, suddenly feeling how heavy her limbs felt. "Thank you," she said tiredly, resting her head on her silver paws.

"Go ahead, rest up," Natasha purred. "We'll watch over you."

Back home, she would have never closed her eyes in the presence of two unknown cats, lest they be enemies. But here in the Twolegplace, she didn't know who was an enemy and who was a friend, and at this point she had only her life to lose. She was friendless, Clanless, hopeless.

_Frostfeather, Ravenwing, _she thought miserably. _Why did you betray me like that? We could be well on our way by now, still friends, heading towards our destiny…but you, Frostfeather, couldn't be happy with the males in your own Clan. No, you had to turn to other Clans to satisfy your lust! And you, Ravenwing, turned to your sister instead of me, lied to me, hid Frostfeather's secret from me! If I had known all along, maybe I could have planned something, but now…? What now? What am I supposed to do?_

Her stomach churned, not with hunger but with misery, and the feeling of loneliness and emptiness followed her into her dark dreams.

. . .

When her eyes opened, she was surprised to see sunlight; had she really slept the rest of the day and night away? She rose to her paws quickly, looking for Mitch and Natasha, but neither of them were anywhere to be seen.

"You're awake, finally!" a voice chirped, and she turned to see Natasha's smiling face. "We went off hunting for you, but didn't catch anything, I'm afraid. You'll find plenty of prey in the forest, though, when we you get there."

Silverstreak yawned and then stretched, limbering herself up.

"Natasha's going to be guiding you, not me," Mitch informed her, lying down and curling his tail around his paws. "I stood guard last night; I need some sleep."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You're just lazy," she growled, rubbing her tail over his nose, before smiling at Silverstreak. "Come on, we don't want to waste any time, then."

As the two of them padded down the alley, Silverstreak heard Mitch call out,

"Goodbye, sweetheart!"

. . .

It was sunhigh before the Twoleg nests began thinning out. Silverstreak's paws felt as heavy as rocks, and her stomach growled with hunger. Every few moments she flinched as a Twoleg monster streaked by. Natasha was unaffected, but she looked concerned for Silverstreak.

"Just a little further now," Natasha meowed. "Not too far."

"You said that minutes ago," Silverstreak replied, but she was smiling; Natasha had proven to be full of interesting chatter, much more than Silverstreak would have thought after she had first met the little tabby. Silverstreak wished Natasha would join the Clan, but she would respect her decision not to.

"There," Natasha said, flicking her tail. In front of them the Thunderpath stretched out alone, flooded with monsters but with no nests on either side. "The grass slopes down a bit and it's safer there, but if you want to keep an eye out for the forest, I'd recommend staying near the Thunderpath." She turned to Silverstreak, and smiled. "Good luck." The little tabby turned to go.

"Wait," Silverstreak blurted impulsively. Natasha glanced over her shoulder. "I have a few friends, a white she-cat and a black she-cat, who might be traveling with a black tom. I had to leave them behind, but in…I don't know, three moons or so, they'll be coming through here, probably with kits. If you could help them too…." Her ears flattened, and she knew she was asking a lot from the two peaceful loners.

Natasha let out a purr. "Of course, honey, we'll keep an eye out for them. Be careful!"

Silverstreak nodded, and turned towards the Thunderpath. She tensed, and then broke into a run despite her heavy paws and gnawing belly. Only an unknown amount of tail-lengths lay between her and the new home of BirchClan.

Soon the forest rose in her sight, and she cut away from the Thunderpath, glad to be rid of its noise and rough surface, padding into the cool shadows of the forest. She took in a deep breath, and couldn't help but smile as she scented all of the things familiar to her; water, soft earth, and scampering prey. Above her the leaves whispered, as if welcoming her home.

It wasn't long before she managed to catch a squirrel for herself, which she quickly ate and disposed of. Filled with energy, she began scouting the territory, creating a map of it in her mind. The forest quickly proved to be vast, with plenty of room for a Clan.

She found the rushing river and its mysterious rock formation, but paid it little attention; the river would be a good marker for the territory as the eastern border. There was no reason to extend her territory beyond it; the forest on her side was more than enough for a Clan.

She thought about scenting and marking the new border, but decided against it; there might be other cats in the area that she didn't want to disturb or scare away.

She lapped up a bit of the white water, before blinking up at the rock formation; it would make a good place for camp, but it straddled the border too closely, even going over it. It looked as if there might be trees on top, and therefore prey, but the forest had plenty of prey in itself. She decided to ignore it, at least for now, although she might visit it later in hopes of finding cats to recruit; it seemed to be the perfect place to live, with both water and prey so close nearby.

She turned away from the river and padded back into the forest, trying to see what borders she could find. There was the river to the east and the Thunderpath to the west, but seemingly nothing remarkable to the north or the south.

She caught a thrush later, near nightfall, filling her belly for the first time in days. Finding no den to make a nest, she simply curled up in a pile of fallen leaves, admiring how the almost-full moon dappled them with its gentle light. She looked up, seeing the moonlight filter through the branches, some of which were bearing leaves already. Soon flowers would appear as well, poking up between the dead leaves, reaching for the sunlight. She smiled and laid her head down on her paws, finally feeling peace.

_The forest was misty. Not dark or cold, not fearful, simply misty. Beyond the mist she could see the shapes of trees, but not easily._

_She frowned, glancing around, searching for some clue as to where she was. Then, a brightness made her head turn, and she saw a starry cat standing before her, the glow of its pelt shining through the mist. For a moment, she was still, until she saw the cat's eyes, the lightest blue she had ever seen._

"_Father!" she yowled, running towards him, but it seemed that even as she ran, he remained the same distance away, although he did not move. She suddenly stopped, as a gust of wind blew over her face, carrying the smell of ash. She coughed, and then blinked as her father began to speak._

"_You've found the forest," he meowed. His voice was how she remembered it when she was young, before the sickness set in and turned his smooth words into rough rasps. _

_Silverstreak opened her mouth to speak, but Fadedstar continued,_

"_But what is the forest without those within? It is nothing but a hollow shell, like a nut with nothing inside. It is meaningless, empty, good for nothing. An empty nut cannot provide life; an empty forest cannot create a Clan." His pale eyes stared at her, and her fur prickled uncomfortably._

"_I had to leave them behind, Father. Frostfeather…she was with a ShellClan tom! She betrayed us!"_

_Fadedstar watched her coolly. "What Frostfeather did was wrong…but you are not perfect either, my daughter. You've never known love, or the touch of a tom…you cannot understand Frostfeather's feelings. Cats do not act without reason, nor is their reasoning black and white. You must see the shades of gray to truly understand what shapes your friends, and what will shape your Clan. What is more, the father of Frostfeather's kits is still alive."_

"_Jaywing?" Silverstreak meowed hopefully. "Is he the tom that came here before me?"_

_Fadedstar shook her head slowly. "Her kits have two fathers, Silverstreak."_

_Her ears flattened. "The ShellClan tom," she spat. Fadedstar nodded._

"_Frostfeather didn't know what would happen, how her careless actions would impact everyone later. Ravenwing was only protecting the sister than she loved. They were wrong, but you were wrong as well, giving up their friendship for a mission."_

"_StarClan gave me this mission! I couldn't just ignore it! The future of our Clan depends on me!" Silverstreak exclaimed angrily._

"_My daughter, this was always your problem, and the reason that I never made you my deputy. You always expected too much of everyone, your Clanmates and yourself. BirchClan's fate doesn't rest on your shoulders alone, my dear. There was a reason your friends came with you; they were willing to take the burden of the Clan with you, to help you. You bear it alone now, but that is your own fault."_

"_Do…do I have to go and find them?" Silverstreak asked. "Does StarClan want me to find them again?"_

_Fadedstar closed his eyes. "It isn't always about what StarClan thinks," he meowed. "There is a reason you were all given free will. StarClan does not control anyone. You must stop asking what StarClan wants of you, Silverstreak: What do you want?"_

"_I want to rebuild BirchClan," Silverstreak mewed, but her jaw was trembling as she spoke, as she realized the mistake she had made._

"_Is that truly what you want?"_

"_No. I want to be with my friends, I want to be there when Frostfeather has her kits, I want to be there in case anything goes wrong…." Silverstreak bowed her head, quivering. "I don't even know where they are now, Father! I drove them away…I lost them because I thought the mission was more important…that I was more important…."_

_She suddenly felt warmth at her side, and realized her father had crossed the impossible distance between them, and had sat down beside her, curling his tail around her as if she was still a kit. She buried her face in his starlit fur, breathing in his scent._

"_I missed you," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Father…I left before you were even...before you….Forgive me, Father, I'm so sorry…."_

_She felt him lick her ear tenderly._

"_You did what you had to; if you had stayed, you could not have left," he murmured. "There's no reason for forgiveness. You had no choice." He moved slightly, and Silverstreak raised her eyes to gaze into his face. "You did have a choice when it came to your friends," he continued gently. "You made the wrong one, but there is time yet to fix it. Go, my daughter. Find them, be with Frostfeather as she enters one of the most beautiful times in her life."_

"_I will," Silverstreak said, surprised at how strong her voice sounded. "Thank you."_

_Fadedstar opened his mouth, but his eyes suddenly widened. He rose to his paws, his fur bristling, his eyes as bright as blue fire._

"_Wake! Wake, Silverstreak!" he yowled, and without warning the dream shattered._

Silverstreak's eyes opened suddenly, and she found herself staring into the face of a tom. His eyes were a bright green, glittering at her.

"Awake? Well, this will make that more challenging, huh?" he asked. His voice was smooth and warm, but Silverstreak's pelt prickled. She tried to rise, only to find one of his large paws holding her down.

"What are you doing?" Silverstreak spat. "Let go of me."

"I don't think so, dear," the tom replied, a crooked smile curling his muzzle; it lifted higher to the right then to the left. "Sorry."

Silverstreak suddenly felt a sharp pain, as stars burst before her eyes. Before she could react, the darkness came, swallowing her up.

. . .

She came to slowly, aware only of a throbbing pain in the back of her skull. She opened her eyes, but her vision was blurry for a moment. Ahead of her she could see bright light, but it was blocked by something. She blinked several times, thinking something was wrong with her vision, but the figure blocking the light turned to blink at her. It was the tom, lying in the entrance to some sort of den. She tried to rise, only to hit her aching head on the ceiling of the den.

"Settle down," the tom said smoothly, rising to his own paws, although he was careful to keep his head low. "You don't want to make it worse than it is."

Silverstreak drew back, pressing herself against the back of the den. "Who are you? What are you doing? Let me go!"

His nose twitched. "To answer in order: Forest, kidnapping you, and no."

She blinked slowly. "Kidnapping me?" she echoed. "That's insane. Why would you kidnap me? I'm alone!" Her eyes suddenly widened, as she realized the implications of a tom kidnapping a she-cat, and keeping her in a dark den.

The tom – Forest - seemed to see the fear in her eyes. "No, no, no," he said quickly. "It's not that. Honestly, you she-cats are so paranoid….And yes, you're alone, but not for very long, eh? I was watching you all day, nosing around the territory like that. That only means one thing, cats nosing around; you were making borders, planning on claiming this territory as your own. Quite a bit of it too, so you obviously weren't intending on being alone. I've already got those Clan cats up by the Pillar, I don't need more of you running around."

Silverstreak blinked, confused. "Clan cats? Pillar?"

"The rock formation by the river, it's called the Pillar. And there are these cats living there, they call themselves Clan cats—"

"I know what Clan cats are," Silverstreak growled. Forest smiled.

"I thought you might," he purred, and then flicked his tail. "Enough questions. Just lie down now, you've got nothing to do."

She unsheathed her claws. "I'll fight you."

His crooked smile appeared again. "You're backed up in this den, with barely room to move. I've got all the room I need behind me, and I'm almost twice your size, in muscle at least. You won't be getting past me. Just lie down; you'll be fine. I'll hunt for the two of us, and you can get a drink later if you're thirsty."

"I'm thirsty now," Silverstreak meowed, her eyes narrowed. Forest laughed.

"Funny, but lying won't work," he purred. "We'll have set times for drinks, how about that?"

"I need to make dirt."

"We'll have times for that too."

Her tail lashed. "How long are you keeping me here? It won't last!"

He shrugged. "However long it takes for your followers to come, realize you're not here, and move on. It's lucky you didn't place those scent-markers like you were planning, or they'd know you were here, huh?"

Silverstreak sensed that she would soon hate that crooked grin.

"They'll be here in days, and they'll find some sign of me," she lied. "They'll find you, and they'll kill you."

Forest grunted, lying down again. "Can't wait."

Silverstreak's jaw clenched; Frostfeather wouldn't be here for at least three moons. Would this tom really keep her for that long?

"They won't be here for three moons," she blurted. "Please, you can't keep me here that long!"

Forest blinked at her. "Three moons? Do they just hate you, or something?"

Silverstreak looked at her paws; they might hate her for all she knew. She could feel Forest's green gaze boring into her, but she didn't look at him again, simply laid back down and rested her head on her paws morosely.

"Three moons, huh? That's a long time…I could let you go now, if you'd promise to leave," Forest meowed, blinking at her.

_I can't, _Silverstreak thought miserably. _My father appeared to me, for the first time in a moon…he told me this was the forest, the right forest. I need to go find Frostfeather and the others…maybe I could go, find them, bring them back and take the territory for myself?_

Forest seemed to gleam her plan, and he sighed. "Guess I can't; you'll just find your friends and kill me like you said. Guess we'll be here for awhile then." He yawned.

Silverstreak turned towards him. "And what about when my friends come and leave? I'll just find them and bring them back here," she growled.

"I'll make sure to wait a bit after they leave, so you have to spend time finding them," Forest replied, "but I'm honestly banking on you liking me too much to come after me, after that." He grinned at her again, and Silverstreak wanted to claw that slanted smile right off of his muzzle.

"I'll escape, just you wait," Silverstreak hissed. "You can't hold me here."

Forest yawned again, and rolled over onto his side so that he was no longer facing you. "We'll see," he replied, his voice muffled.

Silverstreak settled herself down; it seemed she'd have a long time to wait.

. . .

She woke when Forest nudged her shoulder; her sleep had been light and fitful, full of Forest's green eyes and dark dens. She blinked slowly, realizing the light was brighter than before.

"Sunhigh," Forest said cheerfully. "Let's go."

Silverstreak rose to her paws slowly, careful not to hit her still-throbbing head against the low ceiling. She winced at how stiff she was.

"We're next to the river, not too far to go," Forest purred, flicking his tail. "Come on." He padded out of the den, letting pure light flow into the den. Silverstreak followed slowly, blinking at the brightness of the sunlight. She was dazzled for a moment and waited for her vision to clear, before looking for Forest. He was only two tail-lengths away, and despite his smile, his eyes were watching her closely.

"Let's not dilly-dally," he flicked his ear at her. He began padding away, although he kept an eye on her to make sure she was following. Silverstreak thought of bolting, but her mouth was dry and her bladder was full. She followed him slowly towards the river, letting out a sigh as the mist from the river brushed against her fur. She knelt and lapped up some of the water until her growling belly was full; it was doubtful that Forest would hunt too hard for her, whatever he had promised. She turned back to him, and he nodded towards a bush, which she assumed was where she would make her dirt. She curled her lip at him, struggling to keep her dignity as she padded behind the push, letting out another sigh as she relieved herself.

"All done?" Forest asked as Silverstreak re-emerged. She glared at him and then sat down, wrapping her tail around her paws.

"I'm not going back into that den," she growled. Forest blinked at her.

"Don't make you hit me again," he said almost pleadingly. "I'm not sure how much of that your delicate skull can take, and I don't want to kill you. That was kind of the whole point of me kidnapping you instead of murdering you in your sleep."

Silverstreak raised her chin defiantly. "Then you'll have to fight me, because I'm not going back. I may not have the energy to run, but I can still fight."

Forest cocked his head to one side. "Hungry, are you? I'll see what I can do for you about that, if you like. You'll have to go back in the den, though, or you'll run off."

Silverstreak's eyes narrowed; what sort of game was he playing? If she went back into the den meekly he would bring her food…but how did she know if he would keep his word? He had to eat too, which he would probably do…so what was stopping her from running away while he hunted? She could get far enough away, maybe back into the Twolegplace if she pressed herself. She smiled to herself, realizing what a fool he was.

"Fine," she mewed primly, "I'll go. But only if you promise to hunt."

"Of course, my queen," Forest said with a laugh, almost as if he was teasing her. "Let's go."

He led her back to the den, and she crept inside, settling herself as if to sleep. Forest watched her, looking amused. Then, he padded away.

Silverstreak waited a moment before rising to her paws, moving towards the den entrance. If he was really gone, she could make her escape.

"Thought you might try that," she heard Forest say, and she turned to find him above her, on a tree branch; the den was beneath an old oak. Forest sprang down, landing in front of her. She glanced behind her, knowing she still didn't have enough room to put up enough of a fight.

"And here I thought I could trust you," Forest said sadly. "Back in now, come on. I'm hungry." He pushed her back into the den, and then disappeared again. Silverstreak waited, knowing he was probably hiding again, only for her jaw to drop as the light slowly began disappearing. Forest was rolling a large rock over the entrance; she could hear his grunts of exhertion.

"No!" Silverstreak yowled, rushing towards the entrance, but the remaining sliver of light was only enough to let air in and out, not a cat.

"Sorry," she heard Forest call, "I'll be back soon."

Silverstreak was suddenly filled with the feeling of being buried alive. She let out a wild yowl, slashing at the rock and throwing herself at it, trying in vain to make it move. She let out another yowl, sounding like a mad creature; the rock threw the sound back at her, and it bounced around the den. She leaped at it, ramming it with her shoulder until she felt warm blood trickling down her side, but it was no use. She slumped against the rock, whimpering. What if Forest left her here to die? She had blindly walked into his trap, with no one but herself to blame.

"Frostfeather, Ravenwing," she meowed, in a whisper that turned into a wail. "Frostfeather! Ravenwing!" she yowled.

"Are those your friends?" Forest asked, his voice muffled by the rock but sounding like a StarClan cat as Silverstreak realized he had come back. Slowly the rock began to move away, as more light and air rushing into the den. Silverstreak let out a whimper as the light banished her fear. Forest stood in front of her, the light making him look as if he had stars in his pelt. In his jaws was a mouse, but he dropped it at seeing her shoulder.

"Why did you do that? I didn't think you'd try to escape like that….Your shoulder looks back. Hold still!" He ordered as she flinched away from his touch. "Let me see it, furball." He examined her bleeding shoulder closely, and sighed. "Now I have to get herbs, you silly she-cat." His green eyes were hard, but they softened slightly as he saw the blood on the rock, and the cuts from her claws. "You were really going at it, huh? I've never been held in that way…I guess it's worse than I thought." He blinked down at her anxiously. "I'm sorry, I won't do that to you again." There was a strange sincerity to his voice. "Here, eat this mouse, then. I'll go look for some cobwebs or something for your shoulder." He nudged the mouse towards her and padded away, leaving Silverstreak confused.

She devoured the mouse hungrily, gulping it down and even eating the marrow as the street-cats did. She licked her whiskers clean, and then rose to paws slowly. She winced at the jarring pain in her shoulder, and laid back down; the pain was too great for her to try running.

Forest returned later with cobwebs in his jaws. He wrapped them around her shoulder gently, carefully, before soothing it with leaves that she recognized as being shiny dock leaves. She didn't think they'd help against infection, but they soothed her shoulder with their gentle coolness, and she couldn't help but let out a sigh.

"Better?" Forest asked anxiously. "Again, I apologize; I didn't realize it would be so distressing."

Silverstreak didn't reply, simply closed her eyes; she wouldn't be able to escape until her shoulder healed, and Forest knew that.

Forest gently nudged her back into the den as he laid in the entrance, guarding her as he had before.

"You can go out again at nightfall," he yawned. "I'll try and wake before then. Get some rest."

Silverstreak rested her head on her paws, miserable. Her shoulder ached, and her heart was uneasy.

_Frostfeather, Ravenwing…this is all my fault. If you were still with me…I wouldn't be in this position. _She glanced at Forest. _I don't know what to make of him…but it seems like I'll have a few moons to decide._

She let out another sigh, and her eyes slowly drooped closed, as her breathing became regular.

**AN: Oh, Silverstreak, if you had only gotten here a day earlier you could have seen Northstar almost fall into the river!**

**So, PeakClan is a ginormous Clan. Up until Silverstreak came into the picture, they had a huge forest to live in. This means they had an incredible amount of prey, as well as a great source of water, so their population swelled; they're still nowhere near their carrying capacity. So what I need you, my loyal readers, to do is this:**

**Create-a-cat!**

**Just send me their name, appearance and personality (either through review or PM). The characters that I really like will be added to PeakClan!**

**Please remember that the leader and medicine cat position are already taken, and not to use Light, Gray, Fawn, Fox, Mouse or Rabbit as a prefix, nor wing, cloud, or claw as a suffix. Thank you~**

**Also, I'm not sure how to handle the next chapter: I know who it is going to be about, but he doesn't really have a lot to say, so I was thinking about splitting it up between him and another character. Do you guys think I should continue with one character per 'special' chapter, or split the chapter into the POVs of several characters?**


	10. C h a p t e r 9: Buck & Lion

**AN: Updated my profile; took off a few stories, marked Snatched as Complete. Also added a little thing at the bottom, in the 'Planned' section: I don't know what I'm doing next, fic-wise (I have an idea for a Pokemon fic, but I don't have a large audience for those, so….).**

**You know how I always rate my fics 'T' because I don't know what might happen? Yeah, this is a chapter that actually earns that rating. Read through the Buck part without fear and you can read into Lion's dreams, but after that you might wanna skip to the end, loves~**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**9: Buck & Lion**

He let out a sigh, downcast, as he reached another dead end, another alley without Belladonna.

_Where are you? _He thought anxiously, his paws kneading the ground. He didn't know where to go next; this entire place was unfamiliar to him.

_I promised myself I'd protect you, but you just had to run off, _he thought miserably, padding to the entrance of the alley and considering his next move. _I should have tried harder to come with you…Robin's practically useless, she can't protect you like I can…._

He sighed again, opening his mouth, desperate for Belladonna's scent. All that greeted him was grit and the stench of monsters. His ears flattened, and he padded down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for Belladonna's distinctive cream-and-blue dapples.

He could tell he was nearing the edge of the Twolegplace, but he wasn't sure whether he should leave or stick around. _Belladonna said she and Robin were heading towards the forest, _he remembered, _so as soon as they got out of this place, they'd leave. It won't do me any good to wander around the city and get lost. I suppose I have to leave, even if this isn't the right way…it's as good a place as any to keep searching._

_And if you can't find her? _A voice in the back of his mind wheedled.

_I will. She tries to be strong, especially for Robin, but she's just as lost as the rest of Mother's children…we have to stick together. We can't survive like this, all scattered, _he thought ruefully. _I didn't have the courage to try and win her when I had the chance. I won't let her get away from me now._

He began moving faster, more urgently. With every step, it felt as if Belladonna and Robin were slipping farther and farther away from him, running to somewhere he couldn't keep up.

These Twoleg houses were nicer than Mother's, or the others in Mother's neighborhood, he observed. They were tidy and clean, with soft grass and white fences all in a row. If he cocked his head, he could hear the grating barks of dogs, and he couldn't help but ruffle his brown fur at the sound. Mother was a cat person, but some of the other cats fresh off of the streets had told Mother's children about terrible dogs, giant blood-thirsty beast who wouldn't hesitate ripping a cat apart. They were usually kept in containers called 'yards', but some of them walked the streets just like cats, wild.

The thought of Belladonna being attacked by one of those monsters flashed through his mind, and he shuddered.

A grassy field was just beyond the Twoleg houses, with a street running alongside it. He approached the grass cautiously, hating how it seemed to cloak everything from him, even the nearby street. He crept through the thick grass slowly, doing his best to be aware of any possible enemies. He almost had a heart attack as he came upon a mouse; his heart didn't settle down until long after the mouse had disappeared, making the grass sway.

The grass slowly thinned out, and he found himself practically on top of a large lake. He was still for a moment, watching the gentle ripples on the lake's glassy surface, before glancing around the area quickly. Near the lake was what appeared to be a pine forest; prey probably wasn't plentiful, but it might be enough for a few cats to live on. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of how he hadn't eaten since he had lost Belladonna's trail; he had followed her even after they had split up, wanting to protect her, only to lose her scent.

He opened his mouth, hoping to catch her scent here by the lake, but he could scent nothing. He began creeping forward beside the lake, keeping out of the whispering reeds. His eyes widened as he caught the scent of a cat – no, several cats. For a moment, he had thought he'd found her, but although at least two of the cats were she-cats, Belladonna's scent was not present. Frowning, he continued forward, spotting bits of disturbed earth where prey had been buried. His fur was bristling with tension; the scents of these other cats were very heavy. Suddenly, his ears pricked, hearing some sort of dispute.

"Just lie down," a she-cat was meowing. "You're _pregnant, _you can't be off running around!"

"I can still walk, can't I? And I've got another moon to go before I kit anyway," the other voice complained. Buck crept forward, stopping as he spotted two she-cats, one black and one white. The white one's stomach was somewhat large; he guessed she was the one who was with kits.

"Besides, Death's useless and we've got to provide for Shimmer, too," the white she-cat continued.

"I'm not useless!" a skinny black tom near the reeds meowed defensively. The she-cat rolled her eyes.

"You don't even hunt for yourself, you lazy lump," she growled, her voice laced with obvious contempt. The black tom's ears flattened.

"If Silverstreak was here, you wouldn't have to hunt," the black she-cat mewed, although it was more to herself than for the others. The white she-cat seemed to have heard, however, and bristled.

"Don't even talk about her!" the white queen spat. "She ran off on us, leaving us like this! She left us in the middle of some stupid Twolegplace with only an unreliable tom to get us home."

"I hardly deserve such harsh words," the black tom said stiffly. "I got us here, at least."

"Only because Ravenwing has a good memory for directions too," the she-cat shot back. "You don't get any credit for bringing us here."

"Iz glad you're here," a fourth voice meowed. Buck glanced around quickly, searching for the source, finally spotting a little silver kit. The black tom – Death – seemed to be as far away from the kit as possible, while still being with the group.

Ravenwing's green eyes were troubled. "We hid it from her, and your kits were fathered at least in part by a ShellClan tom. You're not blameless either, Frostfeather."

Frostfeather let out a little snort. "Go hunt, if it will make you happy," she growled, adjusting herself so that she was lying comfortably on her side.

The silver kit watched the argument with a blank expression on her face, an expression that did not change as her cold eyes met Buck's. He stiffened, certain that the kit would warn the others, but the kit simply glanced away, her gaze landing on Death, who flinched.

_They don't seem to be the violent type, _Buck thought, _Ravenwing seems to be gentle, Frostfeather is pregnant and therefore won't fight, and Death seems…strange. The kit won't be a problem either, although I don't quite know why she didn't warn them._

He slowly rose to his full height, padding forward bravely. The cats turned towards him, looks of surprise on their faces – except for the silver kit's.

"Who're you?" the white queen asked bluntly.

"My name is Buck," he replied. "I'm looking for some friends of mine; you wouldn't have happened to see two she-cats pass by, would you?"

"We've only been here for a day," Ravenwing mewed, somewhat nervously. "Any cats you're looking for were gone before we came back here." She turned to the silver kit. "Shimmer, have you seen anyone?"

"No," the kit replied, but Buck didn't trust her cold eyes.

"Have you seen a silver she-cat?" Ravenwing asked. "In the Twolegplace?"

"In the city? No, I haven't seen anyone," Buck answered. "I'm sorry. Is she a friend of yours?"

Ravenwing glanced at Frostfeather, whose face was stony, and then gave a sort of shrug.

"She was once…I don't know if she is anymore." Her green eyes were round with sorrow.

"We don't need her," the white she-cat growled, but her voice was laced with bitterness.

Buck blinked slowly. "Are you four staying here? A pine forest doesn't seem like the best place for prey."

"There's enough, with the forest and the lake together," Ravenwing responded. "It's a little hard, but we'll be fine."

"I can hunt if you need help," Buck offered. Frostfeather raised her muzzle disdainfully, only to blink in surprise as Ravenwing nodded.

"We'd appreciate it," the black she-cat mewed. Buck turned to Death.

"Aren't you going to help?" he asked, a faint growl in his voice. Death looked terrified to be confronted by the large brown tom.

"I-I'm not that good of a hunter," he stammered, flattening himself to the ground. Buck's eyes narrowed.

"Surely you can learn."

Death glanced at Frostfeather, but the tough white queen offered him no help.

"S-sure, I can learn," Death quavered, rising to his paws shakily. Buck turned back to Ravenwing, and he thought he saw a hint of a smile before she turned to pad into the forest.

Hunting in the pine needles proved difficult, but not impossible; they were irritating against his paws and felt sticky when he crushed them underfoot, but that stickiness also meant that prey was lucky to escape his grasp. Ravenwing proved to be a magnificent hunter, grabbing a robin with a stunning leap. Watching her snare the bird reminded him of Robin, and then of Belladonna.

_If they weren't ever here, I should move on, _he thought, but as he watched Death make what might have been his first forest kill, he couldn't help but feel a bit of pride for the thin tom. _Maybe I'll hang around…just for a little while?_

They padded back to camp, and Death presented Frostfeather with his catch proudly, his golden eyes shining. Frostfeather opened her mouth as if to make fun of the skimpy catch, but the look in Death's eyes simply caused her to nod, taking it from him.

"See, sweets?" Death purred. "I can take care of you. I'm not useless." He stroked her side with his tail, only to let out a yowl of pain as Frostfeather suddenly twisted around and bit down on it. She held him there a moment, listening to his whimpers, before letting him go.

"We talked about the flirting," she growled. "We're Clanmates, and I'm with kits; I've had enough romance."

Death looked hurt. "But we still could—" He was silenced by the threatening look in Frostfeather's eyes. Buck was certain that Death would snatch his kill back from the cranky she-cat, but to his credit he left it with her, padding some distance away.

Buck settled down with his own catch, only to find Death eyeballing him. Buck let out a low, warning growl, before glancing at Ravenwing and discovering that she was sharing her prey with Shimmer. He blinked slowly, remembering the effort Ravenwing had put in just to catch the robin; and now she was sharing it with the strange little kit?

Buck frowned, and his pelt prickled, telling him that Death was still watching.

"Fine," Buck growled, and Death hurried forward, taking a gulp of Buck's prey before the brown tom could even open his mouth. Death seemed to gulp down food faster than any cat Buck had ever seen, and when all of the meat had been stripped from the bones, it was clear Death had gotten the lion's share of it.

"Thanks," Death purred, licking his whiskers. Buck simply grunted, feeling his stomach give a quiet hungry gurgle.

"You should have shared yours with the she-cat," Buck meowed, looking down at the pile of bones, all that was left of his kill.

"You kidding? She'd chew my ear off," the black tom said cheerily.

"Then why give her your prey at all? I'd bet my tail that was the first time you've caught anything in a long time."

"It was," Death said slowly, and glanced at Frostfeather. "But she's so cute, don't you think? So…_white. _And her fur feels like clouds…."

Buck let out a snort. "You won't get anywhere with that one," he laughed. "She's with kits, obviously; where is the father?"

Death rolled onto his stomach, letting the waning sunlight warm his back. "Dead, I think. Both of them."

Buck blinked. "Both of them?"

Death nodded, letting out a lazy yawn. "One was from her Clan, one was from another Clan-thing, I think. That's why their silver friend was so angry and left."

Buck was intrigued, but with both she-cats watching the two of them, he didn't feel as if he could continue this conversation, not as long as they were awake.

"Why don't you three get some rest?" he called. "Death and I will take the night watch. I'll be leaving in the morning anyway."

The she-cats looked surprised at the offer, especially Death 'volunterring' to stay awake. Still, neither of them wanted to look a gift mouse in the mouth, so the two sisters curled up together. Buck noticed that the little kit slept by herself, further away.

Death's ears flattened. "You aren't going to make me stay up all night, are you?" he whined, sounding like a kit. Buck flicked his tail at him, silencing him.

Buck was quiet until he was certain that the others were asleep, waiting until moonrise before he turned to Death.

"Tell me about this silver cat, and this Clan," he meowed. "Start from the beginning."

. . .

"And then when I woke up, Silverstreak was gone!" Death complained. "Which means I was stuck with Frostfeather's…kits." He shuddered. Buck raised an eyebrow. "Kits are terrifying!" Death exclaimed. "They look at you with their little eyes, and they climb all over you and squeal and slobber and…." He shivered again. "I hate them."

"So why are you still sticking around?" Buck asked.

"I told you, they saved me from the dogs," Death meowed. Buck's eyes narrowed.

"From what I've seen, you don't have a loyal bone in your body," he growled. "Why didn't you attempt to follow Silverstreak? Even if you couldn't find her, you'd be no worse off than before, living on the streets."

Death glanced at the sleeping she-cats, and Buck groaned.

"You stayed for the cat with kits, when you know that she's mated with plenty of toms before, and _you're afraid of kits?_"

"Her _fur,_" Death said with a wistful sigh. "And she's so fierce, and beautiful…."

Buck shook his head. "Hopeless."

Death's eyes narrowed, and he looked almost angry. "Well who are you looking for, huh? You're looking for a pair of she-cats too, aren't you? If you had a chance with them, then they wouldn't have left you," he hissed, venom in his voice. Buck's eyes narrowed, and his fur bristled.

"Don't you say a word about then," he hissed. "I'm not interested in them, I'm just trying to protect them!"

"You can't fool me," Death laughed quietly. "I've been around the fence a time or two; I know that look. You really like at least one of those she-cats, but if she didn't want to travel with you, she doesn't feel the same way. At least I'm traveling with the she-cat I like!"

With that, he turned away, clenching his jaw. Buck was silent, his thoughts churning.

_It's true that Belladonna doesn't…think of me that way. We barely knew each other in Mother's house. But following her to protect her really isn't bad, is it? I don't have a chance if I don't follow them, but I have one if I do…I don't even know where they are, though, now. How can I find them again? _His ears flattened, and he rested his head on his large paws. _I can't just lose Belladonna. What if she gets hurt?_

He glanced at Death, but the tom was still looking away stubbornly. _I'm taking out my frustrations with Belladonna out on him, _he thought ruefully, _but it's true: I doubt Death could ever get Frostfeather to return his affections; she doesn't seem like the kind of cat to fall in love with a coward._

_And Belladonna isn't the kind of cat to fall for some sort of hidden protector. She's too full of pride, she thinks she can take care of herself; any attempts I would make to protect her would only make her angry. That's why she didn't want to travel with me in the first place._

He let out a morose sigh, and Death glanced at him before looking away again quickly.

_But if I can't protect Belladonna…what can I do? I'm not built for solitary life. I've always lived with other cats, with Mother. Twolegplace is a dangerous place…I don't want to live there. So where…?_

He watched Frostfeather and Ravenwing sleep, huddled together. _Frostfeather's kind of like Belladonna…in a less celibate way, I suppose._

_Death said these cats were trying to build a Clan. A group of cats, living together…like with Mother. It's as good a place as any, I suppose…but they'll need the leader before they can do much. Their leader ran away…Frostfeather isn't too large to move yet, she could probably follow Silverstreak if we could convince her…that probably requires more skill than I possess, though._

He yawned, his lids feeling heavy. Glancing at Death, he let out a growl as he saw the black tom was asleep on his paws. Buck considered waking him, then shrugged to himself. He would keep watch for the night; it would give him time to think about the path he would choose.

**. L I O N . **

_He crouched, tensing, staring down the ridge. To his right, he felt Tiger shifting his weight, careful not to show himself. He moved his gaze, changing from staring down to staring directly ahead; he could see the gleam in Zig's green eyes as she shifted from paw to paw eagerly on the opposite slope. Blue looked impassive, although it was clear from the way that his shoulders were hunched that he was tense. He had to keep an eye on Zig; she was known for being over excited and impatient._

_Lion swallowed nervously; all he could hope was that the plan would go without a hitch, that FrozenClan would suspect nothing until they wandered into the trap. He and Fadedstar had been planning this for some time; Fadedstar knew an attack on BirchClan was inevitable, once the other two Clans had fallen. He had said that Northstar would send small patrols at first, skirmishes to weaken the Clan while Northstar waited for the forest-sickness to do his work. Once Fadedstar was dead, Northstar would sweep through the Clan before Eaglestrike had time to gain his nine lives, crushing the last Clan in the forest._

_Lion let out a quiet growl; he didn't like BirchClan, or any of the forest Clans, but he knew the mountain cats were much more brutal. Lion and his group had no choice in siding with BirchClan; they had been living in the forest in secret in moons. When FrozenClan began attacking the forest Clans, Lion had been afraid of his group becoming caught in the cross-fire, but there was nothing he could do; his mate, Clover, was heavily pregnant with his kits and too far into the pregnancy to survive a trip through the mountains to safety. Fadedstar had promised that if Lion helped BirchClan to win the war, that Lion's group could live in peace. Lion didn't know if he could trust the old tom; Fadedstar was dying, and he would promise anything to keep his Clan alive. And then there was Eaglestrike, the new leader after Fadedstar's time was up; would he hold to the bargain?_

_Lion pushed the troubling thoughts from his mind; he knew he would not get a better offer from the mountain cats, as brutal and calculating as Northstar was._

"_Are you sure this will work?" Tiger murmured beside him. "There are only four of us, without Clover, and who knows how many cats in this patrol."_

_Lion glanced at Tiger, his second-in-command, his most trusted ally. "I have no idea if this will work," he answered honestly, "but we have no other way. Even if we die, at least Clover and the kits of our group will live on; Fadedstar swore he would take Clover in if we failed."_

_Tiger met Lion's gaze. "It was an honor serving with you," he meowed, and Lion smiled._

"_The same goes for me," he meowed, and they returned their gaze to the ridge. The mountains ringed BirchClan, and the mountain cats were rumored to have tunnels spanning the entire range. Fadedstar had said that FrozenClan would use these tunnels to attack them from the mountains to the westernmost part of BirchClan's territory; that way FrozenClan wouldn't have to navigate through the cold marsh, and they would have an easy path to retreat to once their job was finished. This ridge from the mountains was the only passage into BirchClan's lush forest; FrozenClan would have to take it._

"_There," Tiger hissed, and Lion followed his gaze. The patrol was padding through the ridge, their fur bristling and their claws already unsheathed, ready for battle. Lion's lip curled in disgust; the patrol wasn't even keeping an eye out for danger, so certain in their own safety._

"_We wait for the end of the patrol," Lion had told the four warriors. "Then we can access how large it is and where we should strike. Wait for my signal."_

_A crackle made Lion turn suddenly, snarling and unsheathing his claws, certain that they were being ambushed, only for his eyes to widen as he realized it was Clover._

"_What are you doing here?" he hissed. "I told you to stay back, to keep yourself safe!"_

_Clover blinked at him calmly. "I couldn't just leave you here; what if you never came back? I couldn't leave you to die, and let my kits be fatherless."_

_Lion's eyes narrowed. "Get out of here," he growled. "I need you to be safe, Clover. Please. You promised me that."_

_Clover touched his muzzle gently with her tail. "Do you think the BirchClan cats will really take me in if you die?" she asked softly. "My kits would be outcasts, hated, and we would eventually be forced to leave. We'd never make it over the mountains, Lion, not without help. I want to fight with you; you need every cat you can get if we're all going to make it through this alive."_

_Lion gritted his teeth, but he could see from the stubborn look in Clover's eyes that she wasn't going to back down._

_His ear twitched as Tiger let out a hiss, and Lion turned to see Zig running down the slope at full speed, unable to contain her excitement. Blue had been caught off-guard by a bird for only a moment, but that was all the time Zig needed to race down the ridge, straight at the patrol. She sprang at them, landing on the back of one tom and biting his neck, before slashing another's throat and clawing a third down the length of his side. The patrol, stunned for a moment, slowly came to their senses and turned on Zig. It was then that she realized the danger, for the little tabby turned, running back up the slope towards Blue. Blue was frozen in shock, unable to move. Lion couldn't tear his eyes away, watching Zig run desperately towards Blue; if she could only reach him, she would be safe._

_For a moment, it seemed that she was going to make it, but life had a habit of crushing hopes. Zig stumbled over something Lion couldn't see, maybe a stone, maybe a branch, and just like that, she was lost. It was only as the FrozenClan cats overtook her and Blue let out a cry of rage that Lion was unfrozen; with a fierce roar, he launched himself forward, racing down the ridge with Tiger and Clover at his side._

_He sprang onto a silver she-cat, his claws digging into her fur, slashing down the length of her side. She fell to the side with a gasp of pain and Lion turned, searching for Clover. He saw her facing off against a tortoiseshell and tried to run towards her, only to be stopped by a leering white tom. Lion snarled, his fur bristling, claw the white tom's muzzle only to let out a hiss of pain as the tom's claws caught Lion's shoulder. Lion reared on his hind legs, slicing at the tom's face, scoring a slash over one of the tom's eyes. The tom took a step back, letting out a growl as blood dripped into his eyes, blinding him. Lion lunged forward, his fangs meeting the tom's throat. _

_Lion's vision seemed to narrow as he faced off against another warrior, a small tortoiseshell; she was the only thing he could see. Only the battle mattered; a slash here, dodge to the side there, bite down now, spring away, watch as the bodies piled up. He lost sight of Tiger and Blue, and even Clover was lost to himself as the battle took over; blood pounded in his ears, drowning out the yowls of anger and pain, and a slash over his muzzle turned everything he scented into blood._

_His muscles began screaming at him in pain, but he couldn't hear them; all that mattered was surviving this opponent, and then the next, and then the next; each fight was one less cat who could harm Clover and their unborn kits._

_Exhaustion soon set in, and his reactions became slower, his vision began to blur, and still he fought. Zig had already been lost this day; he would not be lost as well. Warriors had their precious StarClan, but there was nothing beyond life for rogues and loners._

_And then, suddenly, the last opponent appeared, a silver tabby that he dispatched despite blood in one eye from a slash just above it. He tore his gaze away from her dying breath, ready for the next opponent, but there was none._

_He was the only cat left standing._

_A triumphant yowl escaped his lips, only to turn into a wail as he realized what it meant, to be the only cat left standing._

_Ignoring the throbbing pain of his many wounds, Lion broke into a run, his gaze sweeping over the battlefield for any sign of life. There was Blue, lying beside Zig's body, as if he had fallen over it as he died. There was Tiger, his claws still stuck in his enemy's throat, his pelt riddled with deep wounds._

_And Clover? Clover was nowhere to be found._

_Lion clung on to hope as if he was drowning, as he scoured the battlefield looking for her ginger-and-white pelt, but he could see no sign of her._

_Then, the faintest whisper of his name. He turned to see a small den, nothing more than a hole in the ground. Peering into it, he saw the gleam of Clover's green eyes._

"_Clover," he whispered, squeezing his thick shoulders through the entrance. "Clover, are you—" He choked at the stench of blood, and his gaze swept over her, but he could not find the source of her wound until he saw the pool of blood around her, the tiny, still bodies._

"_I'm so sorry," Clover whispered weakly. "The battle…too soon…."_

_Lion stared at the bodies of his kits with disbelief. "Clover, no," he rasped, his voice tight with shock. Just looking at the blood, he knew there was too much for any cat to live without, but his mind couldn't comprehend it._

_He strained, but couldn't force his shoulders through the hole. He reached out one golden paw drenched in blood, struggling to touch her, but he couldn't reach her. Clover's nose reached out gently, touching his paw._

"_I'm so sorry, Lion…I should have stayed behind," she breathed, her eyelids fluttering as she lost even the strength to keep them open._

"_No! Clover, no!" Lion whispered, then more loudly, "Clover, no!"_

_Clover let out the softest of sighs and went limp against his paw. Lion simply stared a moment, before letting out a howl that seemed to tear right out of his heart, pouring out his anguish to the heavens._

His eyes shot open suddenly, only to be greeted by darkness. He shook his head, and then slowly padded out of the den, blinking at the morning light. It was beautiful, really, shining down through the trees, highlighting each vein of every leaf.

He didn't look at the leaves. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground.

For the last moon he had been waiting, watching as FrozenClan developed and became TalonClan, seething in his own misery and anger. Clover had left him, forever; he would never see her again, nor would he see Tiger, Blue, or Zig. Just the thought of the battle, losing his entire family, made Lion bow his head in sorrow, only for him to raise it again, his amber eyes blazing with anger. For the last moon he had watched as Northstar had gotten what he desired, had watched as Crowtalon had taken over the Clan. From time to time, Lion himself had visited TalonClan's camp; to Crowtalon he was only another mindless drone. There he had ferreted out information, learned who was sympathetic to Crowtalon – or Slaughter as he called himself – and who was not. There were two cats who showed promise, ShellClan cats, strangely, that he thought might help him destroy TalonClan.

He had bided his time long enough. Only a few days ago, Slaughter had sent out his scouts as well as his daughter; Slaughter still had his nine guards, but with the scouts gone there were fewer cats who would defend Slaughter if claw and to claw.

There was no better time to strike, and Lion had nothing to lose, without a family or his love.

He finally looked up at the sky, watching the green, filtered light, before clenching his jaw and turning his muzzle towards the mountains.

It was time.

. .

He moved slowly and deliberately up the mountainous slope, taking time to rest when he was tired; it would do him no good to reach the mountains and then become too tired to defeat even a single guard.

Finally, Slaughter's camp appeared in his gaze, and he smiled. Several cats welcomed him as they would a Clanmates, but most simply ignored him; TalonClan simply had too many cats for every warrior to know every other warrior.

He glanced at the ginger ShellClan tom that he had allied himself with, who appeared puzzled to see Lion, but neither of them spoke to each other.

Slaughter's den was near the highest ledge in the den, but Lion didn't want to enter it juts yet.

He would kill Slaughter's guards one-by-one, and then kill the monster himself.

"Slaughter!" he yowled, catching the attention of every cat within earshot. "Or should I say Crowtalon, lowly deputy of the evil Northstar?"

Slaughter appeared in his den, his eyes narrowed. They were icy, cold, like the deepest mountain stream, and for a moment Lion felt a tremor of fear.

"Who is it that calls me such names?" Slaughter asked, his lip curling in disdain. Lion stood firmly, spreading his paws to give himself a larger, more stable stance.

"My name is Lion, and FrozenClan cats killed my family," he hissed. Slaughter blinked slowly, and then his eyes gleamed in understanding.

"It was your cats that took down that patrol early during the conquest of BirchClan, yes? Oh Northstar was furious over that, so many lives lost…we never did understand who was responsible, no….You're alive, then, I see? Wanting revenge, I suppose?"He smiled, showing his sharp fangs. Behind him, eyes gleamed; the eyes of Slaughter's nine guards. Lion stiffened, his fur bristling.

"Are you going to let your guards handle me all together, like a coward?" he challenged boldly. "I will kill them all, together or apart; it makes no difference to me."

Slaughter's eyes gleamed angrily, but his voice was light. "So boastful, are we? Intriguing as it is that a pawful of untrained rogues beat FrozenClan's warriors, I doubt even you can withstand my nine warriors. Still, Mangle here would like to give it a try, wouldn't you?" Slaughter stepped to the side, allowing a gray tabby to appear. "TalonClan, watch as this traitorous cat is ripped apart by one of our loyal warriors," Slaughter ordered. "We'll make this a fair fight; no interrupting, no helping either side. Mangle's life is in his own paws."

The Clan murmured, their eyes bright with the hope of battle. A fighting circle was formed as cats moved to allow room for the two toms.

Mangle began circling Lion, sizing him up, but Lion didn't waste his energy, simply turning just enough to keep Mangle in his sight. When Mangle leaped forward, Lion was ready, rearing back on his hind paws and bringing them down squarely on the tom's skull as he lunged, feeling it give way under his massive weight. There was a terrible cracking sound, and Mangle went limp. Lion turned to Slaughter, a ghost of a smile on his face.

"Bring them on."

Slaughter's right eye twitched faintly as he stared at the body of Mangle. "Remove the body," he ordered, flicking his tail to a second guard. "Obviously he wasn't as strong as I had thought. Brute, Splatter, let's see how he fairs against two opponents."

Lion smiled back at him, his amber eyes glowing. "I can take them."

It was impossible for him to keep both in his sight this time, and now they were wary of him, after seeing what had happened to their companion. Lion's gaze flitted between the two of them, twisted as Brute pretended to lunge, only to feel the teeth of Splatter at his shoulder. Quickly, Lion twisted, burying his own teeth in Splatter's neck, before turning to meet the claws of Brute, slashing at his chest and muzzle. Brute drew back as Splatter hit the ground, his neck wound bleeding heavily. Brute let out a low grunt, an ugly sound, and sprang forward again, higher than Mangle to avoid Lion's paws. Lion simply crouched to the ground and twisted onto his back, ignoring the sting of his shoulder, raking his claws down the length of Brutus's stomach, opening up a deep wound through which his intestines were almost visible. Brute let out a gasp of pain and slumped to the ground, blood forming a crimson pool around him.

Lion met Slaughter's steely gaze. "How many more are you going to throw at me?"

"Enough!" Slaughter spat, and turned towards his remaining six guards. "All of you! Now!"

Lion tensed as the six guards came racing towards him. One slashed at his side and another deepened his shoulder wound as he slashed at a third aiming for his eyes. The cat dropped like a stone, and Lion turned towards the cat attacking his shoulder, springing forward to rip out his throat. He spat out a mouthful of blood as the cat gasped, drowning in his own blood.

The other three attacked from behind, and for a moment Lion was buried underneath them.

_Clover! _He thought, and his mate rose in his mind unbidden, surrounded by a pool of blood. With a yowl, he twisted up onto his back, slashing blindly at anything he could reach. One cat screeched with pain as he clawed one of its eyes; it drew back enough to allow him to throw off the other two guards. He sprang at the injured guard, biting down on his neck, before turning to face the final two toms once more.

They were both nervous now, watching him with fear in their eyes. He bared his bloody fangs at them, but to their credit, neither flinched or fled.

Lion took a step towards them, only to stumble as the pain in his shoulder flared. Sensing weakness, the two of them lunged together, knocking him to the ground again. He let out a grunt of pain as one's claws tore into his stomach, and the second bit into his ear, twisting and ripping, as if attempting to pull it off. Despite himself, he couldn't hold in the yowl of pain as the tom's teeth sank deeper and deeper into his ear. He couldn't twist out of the way without losing it, but if he didn't he was doomed.

Gritting his teeth, he turned towards the tom grabbing his ear, slashing at him as best he could as the other tom struck at his side. A lucky swipe made the tom release his ear, although from the blood streaming down the side of his face, Lion guessed his ear was mostly gone anyway.

He twisted back onto his stomach, giving the attacking tom as much as he was receiving. Blood was matting his stomach, but he wasn't sure how much of it was his, and how much of it was the enemy's.

The tom who had been attacking his ear was back, and Lion knew if he didn't get back onto his paws, he would be dead for sure; it was only a matter of time before one of the toms would stop playing around and get down to killing him.

Summoning a last burst of strength, he managed to break their grips and rise to his paws, facing the two of them with bared fangs. Both toms were grinning, sure that they had won, although the ground beneath them was slick with their own blood.

Lion let out a low, rumbling growl. "I came here for revenge, and I intend to get it."

And with that he struck, taking both of them by surprise, gripping the tom who had grabbed his ear before's ear in his own jaws, ripping it away with a savage motion. The tom let out a howl of pain, falling to the ground, blood streaming down his face. Lion turned to the other tom who was ready, but Lion had nothing to lose. He launched himself forward, using his weight to knock the other tom down, wasting no time in slashing his throat.

The last tom was lying next to his shredded ear, motionless. Lion approached slowly, staring at the warriors of TalonClan, meeting their eyes as he slowly slit the last tom's throat.

With that, he turned to Slaughter, and smiled.

"Your move."

**Does Lion's group sound familiar? In role-play, Lion's group was used much as it was here, for one Clan to wage war for another. And, just like in this story, Lion was the only survivor. I was attached to their characters, though, and so when I wrote Snatched I brought them back! Lion and Tiger became Lightning and Mud (I didn't want to confuse my readers so soon after TR's Tigerstripe and Lionstorm) and Clover became Moss (Two Clovers with SkyClan blood would just be silly). However, I did not change Slate or Tabby's names; there was no reason to, so I kept those the same. For this story, I had to change them, though, because you guys would be majorly confused if Slate and Tabby died here, huh?**

**To sum it up: Lion's group in role-play was Lion, Tiger, Clover, Tabby, and Slate. For Snatched, I changed the names to Lightning, Mud, Moss, Tabby, and Slate. For this story I had to change Tabby and Slate's names to Zig and Blue. **

**Also, ****I've recently learned that I'm going to me absent from the 22****nd**** (Thursday) to the 31****st**** (a weekend day, I think). It might even be longer than that, depending on if we visit my grandparents again. Hopefully my loyal readers will stick around….**


	11. C h a p t e r 10

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**10**

He let her out at nightfall, just as he had promised, to get a drink and make dirt, before shepherding her back into the den. He lay down in the entrance on his side, yawning. Silverstreak closed her eyes and breathed deeply, each breath making her shoulder ache slightly, as if she was asleep. Forest's breaths soon matched her own, and only when she cracked her eyes open enough to see that he had gone limp did she trust that he was asleep. Slowly, holding in a hiss as the pain in her shoulder flared, she rose to her paws. She crept forward, staring at Forest's body in case he tried to move. Slowly she put one paw over him, then the next.

It was as she prepared to carefully move one of her back paws over his sleeping form that Forest suddenly rose from his slumber, if he had even truly been asleep at all. Before Silverstreak could react, he had twisted his front paws up onto her hindquarters, forcing them down with his weight, until he was standing over her. He moved his front paws closer to her shoulders to keep them down, but without actually touching them. Silverstreak was trapped beneath him; with her bad shoulder, she didn't have the strength to rear up and throw him off. The image of a tom standing over a defenseless queen flashed in her mind again, and she froze.

"Still thinking about that, huh?" Forest whispered in her ear. "If I wanted to do that, I would have when I first caught you. I can see why you tried to escape, though; even with your shoulder, you might have gotten out of the forest before I was awake. Nice try. Now, when I let you go, are you going to move back into the den? Or do I drag you?"

Silverstreak's ears flattened, but she had no choice; she nodded, and Forest let her go. Hating herself for being so weak, she limped to the back of the den and curled up once again. Forest watched her, amusement in his green eyes.

"You've got spirit, at least," he said with a yawn, before lying down again. "I'm going to sleep for real this time, but you've wasted too much moonlight waiting for me to sleep the first time to escape now. You need to rest to help your shoulder heal anyway." He yawned again. "Goodnight."

Silverstreak bit back a scathing reply, the fear of violence still at the back of her mind. She sighed, knowing she had no choice but to do as Forest said, and use the night for rest. She closed her eyes, and gradually drifted off to sleep.

. . .

"Wake up," she heard Forest meow. She blinked slowly, waking to see his green eyes staring down at her.

"Come on, I'm hungry," he grinned crookedly down at her. Silverstreak glared at him, but she was hungry as well. Slowly and stiffly, she rose to her paws. Forest led her out of the den, towards the river. As she drank, she felt his eyes on her, making her pelt prickle.

"Go ahead and make your dirt; I'm going to hunt and see if I can find some more cobwebs and stuff," Forest meowed. Silverstreak blinked in surprise; hunting and gathering herbs would take awhile, easily long enough for her to limp away somewhere. Was he offering her an opportunity to escape?

Forest seemed to sense her thoughts, again, for he smiled broadly. "You won't be getting far, even if you run off, and you can't hunt with that shoulder, either. Just relax, enjoy the sunshine. I'll be back soon." With that, he turned and padded away.

He returned sooner than Silverstreak would have guessed, with a mouse for her and one for herself. Before he sat down to eat, he tended to her shoulder again, redressing it with new cobwebs and dock leaves to cool the pain. Forest settled down with his own kill a little distance away. Silverstreak took a bite of her mouse, attempting to chew slowly as if she wasn't hungry, only to find herself gulping her prey down in minutes. Forest had more restraint, taking his time while watching the river flow, not realizing that Silverstreak was watching him.

His coloring was unusual, not quite any cat Silverstreak had seen before; his fur was a dusty brown, almost golden, with darker stripes. His four paws were all dark brown, as if he had been paw-deep in mud. His muzzle and part of his face were the same color, giving him an almost gentle look when paired with his bright green eyes.

Forest finished his mouse and buried it, and Silverstreak tensed, thinking that she would be returned to the cramped den. However, Forest simply smiled at her.

"If your friends won't be here for awhile, there's no reason for the two of us to hide in that little den, now is there? Personally, I'm rather bored." He rolled onto his back, showing a stomach just as dark as his paws. "We'll return to the den by nightfall, but personally I'd rather juts enjoy the day. You don't mind, I'm sure?"

Silverstreak blinked, surprised by the kindness; Forest could have kept her in the den, if he chose, while he stayed outside. She would be easy to keep in the den with her injured shoulder. But, instead of keeping her in the dark, cramped conditions, he was allowing her to stay out as well.

She simply nodded, unwilling to betray any graciousness; he was still kidnapping her, after all, and he was the reason why her shoulder had been injured in the first place.

By sunhigh, Forest was asleep, soothed by the gentle sunshine. Silverstreak rested her head on her paws, listening to the sound of the river and the birds singing above her head. She felt the breeze and opened her mouth, but didn't catch the faintest scent of ash as she had hoped.

_Frostfeather, Ravenwing, _she thought again miserably as she blinked up at the blue sky.

"So, tell me about your friends," Forest meowed. Silverstreak turned to him, surprised both to see him awake and by his question.

"The ones who aren't coming for three moons or so, I mean," he elaborated. "What's taking them so long? Is something holding them back, or are they angry with you?"

"Both," Silverstreak replied. Forest blinked slowly, intrigued. He flicked his tail, waiting for her to continue.

"I'm a Clan cat, as you know; we have a certain code to follow." Silverstreak had nothing to lose at this point, and there was no reason she didn't have to be civil, so long as he was being civil to her.

"The warrior code," Forest said. Silverstreak raised an eyebrow, and he let out a purr. "Clan cats live here, remember? I know all about them, always yammering about their warrior code. Go on, though, I'm interested."

"The warrior code tells us we mustn't mate between Clans," Silverstreak said slowly. "Where I came from, there were four Clans; MarshClan of the marsh and mud, ShellClan of the sea and sand, FrozenClan of the mountains and ice, and BirchClan of the forest and earth. My friend…she's very beautiful, and knows plenty about toms; she can charm any tom she likes, and she went after a tom from ShellClan. And she…she became pregnant with his kits, and maybe the kits of another BirchClan tom as well. FrozenClan took over the other Clans, but StarClan gave me a mission to rebuild BirchClan. That's why I'm here; I thought this was where BirchClan would rise again."

Forest's eyes betrayed no emotion, but he nodded.

"Frostfeather hid the fact that she was with kits from me, and my friend Ravenwing did as well; Ravenwing was a medicine cat apprentice, meaning she could tell when cats were with kits, she knew the signs…and yet she said nothing of it to me. The kits would have held our mission back for moons; we would have had to find somewhere safe for Frostfeather to deliver them and raise them until they were old enough to be moved." Silverstreak felt a flash of her old anger, tinged with sadness; she had driven her friends away, which was the reason she was being held as a prisoner now.

"And you went off without them." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Silverstreak whispered, and she closed her eyes. "They probably aren't coming after me anyway, Forest; they only agreed to the journey because I asked them to. I'm not sure if they even believe it was a real mission at all…." She let out a soft sigh.

"I'm sorry," she was surprised to hear Forest say, although she reflected that's he probably shouldn't have been surprised at all. He was surprisingly compassionate, for a captor.

"If they came this far, though, then I'm sure they'll come after you, which means of course I can't let you go."

Silverstreak simply shrugged; she expected it.

"And you?" she asked. "You could have hardly been born and raised under a Clan's nose."

"I was born a kittypet," he said.

"You?" Silverstreak blurted, unable to contain her astonishment. His whiskers twitched.

"I'm not sure whether to be flattered or angered that you don't think a kittypet could live here," he chuckled. "But yes, I was a kittypet, born into a house with over seventy others. My father went by the name of Timber, my mother of Lacey; I was my father's fourth litter."

"Seventy others?" Silverstreak echoed, astonished. "There's not even that many cats in a single Clan! Is that normal for kittypets?"

"From what I've heard from other kittypets, no," Forest answered. "Still, she was good to us, and many of us adored her, calling her 'Mother'. I was content for awhile, but eventually I grew restless; my father was an easily-angered cat, and he didn't like my roaming nature. We had an, ah, disagreement, which evolved into an out-and-out brawl. We broke one of Mother's windows in the process, and that turned by father over the edge; he threw me out of the house, through the broken window, ranting and raving about how my foolish actions had cost Mother a window, and how I didn't understand how good life was…the usual father-son stuff, you know? He said I couldn't home back, and I honestly didn't care…so I left." He rolled on his side slightly, showing her several odd scars near his stomach. "That's where I cut myself falling out of the window."

"But you were young then, living like a kittypet; how did you survive in the Twolegplace?"

"It wasn't hard; Mother didn't have enough food to feed all of her pets, but there was always plenty of prey to be found. There was something wrong with her, I think; she hoarded her cats, never letting them go, and she hoarded other things, too, weird Twoleg things, even if they were useless or broken. Mice and rats love that kind of place, so at a young age every kit had to learn how to hunt. On the streets, the mice were just a little more hidden, is all. I was nearly a year old anyway, old enough to fight for a mate and old enough to survive. That was nearly a year ago, I think."

"You're younger than me," Silverstreak realized, "by a good six moons, at least."

"Really?" Forest smiled crookedly at her. "That must be a little embarrassing for you."

"What?"

"Being caught by a tom younger than yourself, I mean," Forest was still smiling. "A proud warrior such as yourself couldn't accept that kind of defeat, am I right?"

Silverstreak flicked her ear at him, but his smile didn't fade.

"How did you end up here, then?" she asked, changing the subject quickly. Forest's tail twitched, and he looked thoughtfully, although his green eyes were still shining at her, like two new leaves.

"I didn't stick with the city for long; my roaming nature wouldn't let me. I walked a moon in all directions, save for the pine forest; mountains aren't to my taste. And then, I happened upon this little slice of paradise…." His tail brushed the ground, rustling the leaves. "And I found myself settling down." His green eyes seemed to bore into her. "That's why I refuse to leave, and I'm not going to let any other cats claim this territory as their own."

His gaze was intense, and Silverstreak had to look away, only to hear him speaking in the same light-hearted, golden tone.

"And you? What brings you to this fine forest?"

"I told you, I have a mission," Silverstreak meowed, a slight growl in her voice. "Do whatever you like, you can't fight the will of StarClan."

"Your gods, right?" he asked. "StarClan…it slides off the tongue well, at least. And they sent you here, to this exact forest?"

Silverstreak's pelt prickled. "My father visited me in a dream shortly before you took me, so yes, I'd say this is the right forest," she said coldly. "He even told me that I was in danger, and broke the dream. Too late, though."

Forest looked curious. "Your father? Where is he?"

"Dead," Silverstreak said flatly. Forest blinked slowly.

"I'm sorry."

Silverstreak said nothing, and Forest frowned. "Come on, that wasn't my fault, how was I supposed to know? Don't clam up, here I thought we were getting to be friends."

"I'll never be friends with scum like you," Silverstreak spat, "kidnapping me for the sake of your selfish needs!"

"Hey!" Forest's eyes were narrowed now. "I'm selfish? You abandoned your friends for the sake of some mission to get nine lives!" Silverstreak's eyes widened, and Forest smiled, but it wasn't his playful crooked smile. "Thought I didn't know about that, did you? Well, you're wrong. Those Clan idiots yap about the warrior code and their nine lives all the time, remember? I know everything there is to know about Clans. They're just corrupt, worthless systems that profit cats of only pure blood, leaving those less fortunate to leave the territory and find their own home, only to be driven off by more Clans!" His green gaze was heated, crackling over Silverstreak's pelt like fire. "How many cats have lost their homes and hunting grounds for Clans, huh? How many Clans do you think shouldered their way into someone else's territory, claiming it for 'StarClan' and telling the other cats 'Well, sorry about that mate, good luck elsewhere, shove off or we'll kill you?'"

Silverstreak stared at him, surprised at his outburst. _FrozenClan was the first Clan, _she thought. _Only they weren't a Clan, just a group of loosely aligned cats. Years ago when the three Clans came into the forest when their old home was destroyed…did they take the forest away? Our stories always said that FrozenClan had lived in the mountains…but why would any cat live in the mountains when they could have the forest? Could we have really forced them out? Is that why my father showed them the warrior code? Out of…pity?_

"Is that what happened here?" she found herself asking.

"Yes," Forest growled, his voice still sharp with anger. "There was an old tom here, very old, maybe fourteen years of age…he lived here his whole life, only to have those cats sweep in and take over. I didn't know him well, but we both had the hiding in common; the Clan cats were here before I came, and he had learned that it didn't pay for them to know about you. He was slow, though, and one day, only a season after I settled down here, I found him bleeding to death in the river; some apprentices had thought it good fun to tease and attack the old tom, since he couldn't find back. He told me what happened before dying; I buried him on the riverbank, on that cliff hanging over the river. And ever since then I've been forced to hide and skulk around, living in fear of the same thing happening to me when I'm old…they may live by a code of honor, but it doesn't mean they have any, attacking an old, harmless cat like him." Forest's voice was bitter and cold. "He was here first, but he was killed trying to survive on the territory he was born into, before those Clan cats ever showed up."

Silverstreak tried to imagine BirchClan apprentices attacking an old, defenseless tom, but couldn't. Why would any cats be so cruel?

For the first time, she felt herself fill with doubt over her Clan. Had they forced FrozenClan out of their rightful home, forcing them into the mountains and making them into the cold, cruel cats they were now? Frozenstar had been ancient; he could have been a kit when the first three Clans came into the forest. Was that why he had tried to win it back? Was it because it was rightfully his?

"We wouldn't do that," she said softly. "Elders are cared for in our society. I don't know why this false Clan would do so…but my Clan, the real BirchClan, would have never done such a thing."

Forest stared at her for a moment. "I believe you," he said finally, "but I also believe that any system becomes corrupt, in the end. It's bad enough having one Clan here. I won't allow a second to wage war and tear the forest apart."

They were silent, and the silence felt strange, as if the two of them had broken down a wall between them, only to find another behind it.

Suddenly, Forest stiffened and rose to his paws. Before Silverstreak could blink, he had grabbed her by her scruff and forcefully dragged her into the den. She opened her mouth to let out a cry, only to find it full of the fur of Forest's tail.

"Shut up," he hissed in her ear, pushing her into the back of the den. He crouched near the entrance, ears swiveling, only to shrink back into the darkness, almost pressing his back against her. Silverstreak stiffened, as she heard voices. She struggled, knowing that freedom was only a few pawsteps away, but when Forest turned towards her, his green eyes were wild, and with shock she realized that whatever was out there was worth silencing her, as long as Forest himself wasn't exposed. She immediately ceased her struggles, and Forest turned back to the den's entrance, tensed as if ready for battle.

"Pretty cool, isn't it? Here, I mean? Our territory is awesome, don't you think? Forest everywhere you look! Plus that river, where you saved Rosedapple a few days ago, remember? When she was gonna fall into the river? Of course you remember, of course…Don't you like our territory?"

"Stop bothering him, Rabbitpaw," another voice chided, that of a female warrior's.

"I'm not bothering him," Rabbitpaw whined, sounding like any other excitable apprentice. Silverstreak glanced at Forest, seeing his jaw clenched. A season after Forest entered the forest would be at least two seasons ago, too much time for Rabbitpaw to be one of the apprentices who had attacked the old tom, but she could tell Forest was thinking about him.

"Come on, Rabbitpaw, I think there's a vole up ahead you can try," the she-cat meowed.

"Yes, sir!" Rabbitpaw chirped playfully, and to Silverstreak's relief, the patrol moved on.

Even after the sounds of the patrol faded, Forest remained tense, his eyes wide as if in a daze; Silverstreak wondered if he was reliving his friend's death.

"They're gone," Silverstreak whispered through his tail. Forest glanced at her, and at the sight of her he seemed to relax, his golden-brown fur laying flat once more. He let out a quiet breath.

"One of them was the new cat," he said softly, his voice slightly rough.

"New cat?"

"The day before you arrived, another cat came, a strange tom. He sniffed around the forest for awhile, and I was worried he might be scouting it out, but then he saved a queen from falling into the river…he was taking her towards the Pillar, and now he's on one of their patrols, so I assume he's joined them."

At this, Silverstreak's heart began beating quickly. It had to be the same mysterious tom who had saved Natasha…and now he had saved another she-cat! Who could it be? Old Silverstar wouldn't have the strength to grab a queen falling into the river…but it could still be Eaglestrike, who had gotten ahead of them. Or, it could be the ShellClan tom who had mated with Frostfeather; Fadedstar had said that he was still alive, so might it be possible…?

Either way, she needed to meet this tom; surely he wasn't an enemy, but a friend. Perhaps he would even join her budding Clan, or better yet help her escape Forest.

The thought of escaping Forest brought others; Forest's words had placed a seed of doubt in her heart. What the Pillar Clan had done was indeed wrong…but Silverstreak would never let the same thing happen to her own Clan. And yet, if her suspicions were correct, her BirchClan had indeed driven cats out before, and if what Forest had said about systems becoming corrupt was true, could she truly promise that hers would be pure?

_Is this how StarClan feels when they look down on us?_ Silverstreak wondered. _Confused and anxious, dreading that our own follies will upset their own lifetimes' work? Afraid that their own legacies will be unwritten by us and our mistakes?_

Silverstreak flinched away from her thoughts, but could not escape them. When they had fled, everything had seemed so easy; find a forest, find cats to join them, build a Clan. It was black and white, simple and clean, even easy. But now, everything was muddled and confused. Should she have stayed behind with her friends, or gone ahead with her mission? Should she stay here and create her Clan, or let Forest live in peace as best he could? Had her Clan committed the crime of pushing cats out of a forest in the past, and if so did it excuse her for doing it now?

She sighed, and saw that Forest's eyes had calmed, back to their twinkling state of mischief. He was watching her, smiling his friendly smile, higher to the right than to the left.

"Food for thought, huh?" he asked. "Still going to make your Clan when your friends arrive?"

Silverstreak didn't answer; she wasn't sure what would come out if she opened her mouth. Forest's whiskers twitched, and he returned his gaze to the den. Silverstreak realized the light was waning, and she blinked; had they really been talking for so long?

Her stomach rumbled, and Forest's smile widened. "It's almost nightfall; we'll take our last break a little early. I'm starving, personally. I trust you can walk to the river yourself?"

Silverstreak nodded, and Forest rose to his paws, padding out of the den. "I'll catch us something, but it might take awhile if I'm keeping out of the patrol's way."

"Be careful," Silverstreak blurted, and Forest laughed.

"I didn't think you cared." His green eyes danced like falling leaves.

"I don't," Silverstreak growled, and Forest's nose twitched.

"Whatever you say," he purred, "I'll be back soon."

He padded away, and Silverstreak wasted no time padding to the river. She took a good, long drink, and then opened her mouth, hoping to catch the patrol's scent, but the river's mist had stolen it away. She frowned, and glanced up the bank, wondering how the patrol had gotten across the white water. Was it thinner farther down, perhaps, or more calm?

She went behind the bush as usual, more careful than ever to bury her dirt lest some patrol find it. After that, she simply curled up on the grass, giving her shoulder a careful examination; thanks to Forest's care, it seemed to be healing, and it was more stiff than painful. She rested her head on her paws, silently waiting for the brown tom to return with her dinner.

By the time the moon started to peak over the horizon, she was anxious. By the time the first stars had scattered over the sky, she was downright worried.

Had Forest ran into a patrol? Despite kidnapping her, he wasn't exactly a bad cat; her stay with him could have been much more unpleasant, and yet he had been polite, if not downright kind while tending to her shoulder or simply chatting.

She rose to her paws slowly, and clenched her jaw; if something had happened to Forest, she at least needed to know, instead of waiting here like a forlorn kit for him to come back.

She opened her mouth, and was able to catch his fresh scent despite the river. She began following it cautiously, her fur bristling nervous and her ears swiveling to catch every sound. With every movement from the dark forest, she pictured a warrior leaping out at her; it was all she could do to convince herself that she had nothing to fear. She was one of them, she reminded herself, a cat with Clan blood. She was a warrior, perhaps even the leader of a Clan someday, if everything worked out for the best.

Her eyes widened as she suddenly caught the scent of blood. Her pace increased despite herself, as the scent of blood grew stronger, until she could almost taste it, heavy and thick on her tongue. She stopped, her eyes wide with horror.

The lump of bloody fur was almost unrecognizable, until one eye cracked open briefly. It was only open an instant before closing again, and it was unfocused, but there was no mistaking that shade of green.

Silverstreak was frozen in disbelief, the scent of blood threatening to choke her. Slowly she took a step forward, closer to the figure surrounded by a pool of crimson. Deep wounds covered his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his back, his muzzle. One ear was deeply cut, oozing blood.

And then the scent grew in Silverstreak's nose, and she rushed to Forest's side.

"Forest!" she hissed. "Forest, what did he look like, the cat who was here before me? The one who did this to you?"

And just as she had expected, he rasped, eyes still closed, "White…with black paws and cold, dark eyes."

Silverstreak took a step back, reeling.

Northstar. Somehow, the dark tom had followed her here…and now he had savaged Forest, perhaps to the brink of death.

That thought made her realize she had a choice; with Forest so badly injured, she was free to leave, free to seek her friends out again. However, if she did, she knew that she would forever have the tom's death on her conscience…bringing her to another strange choice. This time, however, the choice was clear.

"Just relax," Silverstreak whispered. "I'm not going to leave you here, okay? You're going to be find." Her mind was racing. She didn't know where to find herbs, or how to use them; that had always been Ravenwing's specialty. Now, though, it seemed she had no choice. She'd have to take Forest back to the den, first, to safety; there would be a trail of blood leading back, but from what she'd seen the patrols were random and their journeys didn't bother covering the same path.

She grabbed Forest's scruff as gently as she could and began dragging him. Forest was struggling to be silent, she could see it, but as she pulled him over a rock he let out a yowl of pain. Halting for a moment, she saw that one of Forest's front paws was twisted, misshapen; Northstar must have twisted it in his jaws, after Forest had already been beaten.

His cruelty made Silverstreak shake with anger, and somehow seemed to give her more energy,as she dragged Forest into the den.

She opened her mouth to ask where to find cobwebs, dock leaves, or whatever else would help, but Forest had blacked out from the pain.

If she was going to save him, she would be on her own.

**AN: I was able to bring my computer with me on vacation! And our hotel has free WiFi! I'm not sure if the others do, though (we're staying in three or four different ones) so this might be the only one you get. ;)**

**Also, I found a pretty BA cat-creator on dART; if you've noticed, all the cats I've had up so far are females, because the males just look bad on that creator (except Death, but he's practically a she-cat with the way he acts). However, on this other creator, the cats actually look Warriors-esque, so Northstar and Lion will be up soon! Belladonna and Buck should be up eventually too, along with Slaughter and Toxin, maybe. My brother suggested using the cuter-creator for apprentices/kits, and using the more realistic one for actual warriors. It would be a little work, but what do you guys think?**

**So Timber from Mother's house is Forest's father! You didn't think that two brown tabbies with green eyes and such similar names would be completely unrelated, now did you?**


	12. C h a p t e r 11: Lion & Northstar

**AN: As Forest would say, to answer your questions: Northstar isn't related to Blackfoot/star, but I liked his appearance so much I kind of copied it, Forest isn't a Clan cat, so he does know what years are; Clan cats also know, I believe, or at least they know seasons, Silverstreak's eyes are blue, Brownfur is Fear, and the ShellClan warrior that you guys like so much from the first few chapters is the same one helping Lion, we'll learn his name in this chapter, and who doesn't like Smash Brothers Brawl?**

**C**_** h a p t e r **_**11**

Slaughter's eyes had lost their deathly coolness; they glittered at him, sparkling with rage, his face absolutely livid. Lion was still smiling, and he flicked his ruined ear, sending fresh blood spattering the battlefield.

"Come on, Slaughter; don't have the courage to actually fight?" he sneered. At this, Slaughter seemed to become even angrier, his rage twisting his features into something that Lion couldn't tell if it was a snarl, or a smile. Slaughter couldn't back down now, not with all of his followers watching, already shaken by the nine deaths they had just witnessed. Some of them would be rooting for Slaughter, a select few would be on Lion's side, and most of them were simply waiting to see who would win, who they would pledge their allegiance to. These were mostly the cowardly cats, after all, those that had betrayed their Clan in hopes of landing on the winning side; if Slaughter lost, most of TalonClan would switch sides again, following Lion.

Lion's golden gaze flicked to the side, seeing the ginger face of the ShellClan cat. He was closer to the battlefield than when Lion first started fighting, and he gave Lion a slight nod when he realized he was watching him. Lion nodded back, and then slowly dragged his gaze back to Slaughter. The tip of his bushy golden tail twitched, mocking him.

To his credit, Slaughter kept his composure, seemingly easier than Lion would have guessed.

"My guards were weak, I suppose," he announced to his Clan, "but I, Slaughter, am not. I will finish this murderer, and you will all watch!" Behind his fierce words, Lion saw the slightest flicker of fear in his eyes, before he turned back to Lion. "Let's finish this."

Lion simply smiled back, his friends flashing before his eyes: Grinning Zig, serious Blue, fierce Tiger, gentle Clover. It didn't matter whether he won or lost this battle; he had already lost them. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

They began circling each other, golden tom and darker tom, watching each other's movements closely. Lion's right ear was useless now, ruined, but it wouldn't make a difference in this battle; Slaughter couldn't sneak up on him from his deaf side, with such close quarters, and Lion would see him do it anyway.

His deep shoulder wound ached with each step, and with each step he knew he was losing precious blood from his other wounds as well. This battle would have to be swift; he needed to engage Slaughter and end him as quickly as possible.

With that decided, he suddenly lunged, hoping to take Slaughter by surprise. Instead, he was the one surprised as Slaughter's sleek pelt escaped his claws. Slaughter grinned, baring his fangs. He was waiting for Lion to bleed out, Lion realized; it was cowardly, but pragmatic. TalonClan would be under his spell once more as soon as he let out another rousing speech; it didn't matter how Slaughter fought, so long as he won.

It would be up to Lion to bring the fight claw-to-claw, then. He sprang again, only for Slaughter to dodge the blow once more. Lion gritted his teeth in frustration; unlike many TalonClan's cats, Slaughter's pelt had few scars to show, showing his prowess as a warrior and his ability to stay away from his enemy's claws.

Lion stopped, sizing Slaughter up for a moment. Any attack he launched would simply send the tom running again. So, he just had to maneuver Slaughter into a position where he couldn't run, keeping his back against his own cats.

"Running away like a kit, are we"? Lion challenged, distracting him. Slaughter's eyes flashed, but he only smiled.

"I'd hardly call dodging the blows of a lumbering simpleton running," he sneered back, moving to the right as Lion feinted another lunge. Lion smiled back, keeping his body positioned so that his muzzle was left of Slaughter's, but just barely.

"A lumbering simpleton, huh? Interesting, how a simpleton managed to defeat nine of your highest warriors," he replied. Slaughter's face twisted in a snarl, but he quickly turned it into another smile.

"Don't confuse brawn with brains, murderer."

"Murderer?" Lion laughed, sending Slaughter to the right again with another swipe of his huge golden paws. "I'm the murderer? You as good as killed your leader Northstar, sending his Clan after him like that, running him out of his territory. And you were watching Frozenstar die, weren't you?"

Slaughter let out a hiss, but quickly composed himself again, moving to the right a third time, not realizing that he was being slowly backed into a corner; the TalonClan cats had attempted to create a circle for the battlefield, but they couldn't construct a perfect one; it was more oval-shaped, and Lion was slowly forcing Slaughter into one of the tapering ends, distracting him so he wouldn't notice it. Slaughter was more concerned with his image in the eyes of his followers than the battle at hand.

"I had to remain hidden, or Northstar would have killed me on the spot," Slaughter said smoothly.

"So you let him come to power and gain his nine lives?" Lion's eyes were narrowed, and he swiped at Slaughter again, forcing him closer to the edge of the oval.

"I…." Slaughter faltered for a moment, but regained himself once more. "It was the only thing I could do; Northstar was a brilliant commander. We lost few cats under his rule."

"Except for the battle that killed my family, however, but their lives were worth nothing, right? Aside from that, it sounds like Northstar was a brilliant leader. He treated the warriors with respect, did he not? My friends here tell me he was gentle with those that patrolled for him, rewarding them. Have you rewarded your warriors? Have you earned their trust and guidance with anything besides fear of execution and pretty speeches? Northstar killed Frozenstar because Frozenstar was senile, costing FrozenClan warriors their lives. And yet after all he did for you, you cast him out, after he had done your dirty work and secured the forest Clans!" Lion was yowling now, not just to Slaughter, but to every other cat listening. "And you chased him out for this, threatening to kill him if you found him, while the real traitor was Slaughter…or should I saw, Crowtalon!"

Slaughter's eyes were blue flames as the Clan began murmuring to one another, passing Lion's words to those who could not hear them, beyond the battlefield. Slaughter bared his fangs, and this time it was he who struck.

He knocked Lion down, tearing at his soft stomach, only to fly back from a kick of Lion's powerful legs. He was on the thin part of the oval now, and when Lion sprang at him there was nowhere for him to run. Lion pinned him down, raking his claws down Slaughter's chest and stomach, striking for his neck with his fangs, only to find himself with Slaughter's shoulder; the tom had managed to move and dodge the killing blow. Lion bit down, feeling his teeth scrape against blow, and Slaughter let out a chilling howl of pain that seemed to make Lion's fangs rattle. Lion released him, only to let out a grunt of pain as Slaughter copied him, kicking his golden stomach. The breath knocked out of him, Lion was forced to roll away, landing on his side, the side with the wounded shoulder. He let out a hiss of pain and attempted to get to his paws, only to have his bad shoulder fail him and send him crashing to the ground. Slaughter rose slowly, triumph glittering in his eyes. He took a step forward, planting his paw on Lion's good shoulder, eyes gleaming.

"This is what happens to those that rise against TalonClan!" he roared, and prepared the death blow. Lion closed his eyes.

_There's nowhere after this, for me…but I tried, Clover, if you're lingering there, waiting for me before going on. I tried for you, our family, and our kits._

Slaughter's hiss of vengeance suddenly turned into a cry of surprise. Lion opened his eyes just in time to see a ginger streak rush forward, knocking Slaughter on his side.

"You scum! You filth!" the ginger ShellClan tom spat. TalonClan's murmurs rose into a cry at the unfairness of the tom coming to Lion's aid, but the tom simply spat at them in reply.

"He sent six warriors on Lion at once, and he only fought him after he defeated three others!" the ShellClan tom roared. "From day one I have opposed his rule; the only reason I am not dead is because if my voice was silenced, it would leave a gaping hole. I am simply balancing this fight!"

With that he took a step back. Lion rose to his paws slowly, thanking him with a nod. This time it was he who padded towards the fallen warrior. Slaughter stared up at him, pure hatred and fear in his gaze.

"You won't do it," he sneered at Lion. "I'm evil by your standards, certainly, but even in the stories the hero never slays the villain! You'll let me go, and I'll run off. My Clan will follow me, and we will kill you in the night!" His eyes were wild. "End this charade. Free me!"

Lion stared down at him, and then a predatory smile curled his muzzle.

"This isn't a story, and I'm no hero," he snarled, and with that he raked his claws down Slaughter's throat. Slaughter let out a gasp – filled with surprise? Regret? Anger? – as his blood pooled around him, quickly turning into a gurgle. Slowly, the fiery rage in his blue eyes left him, as they glazed over until they stared up at the cave's ceiling blankly.

With that, Lion turned towards TalonClan, feeling weary. He waited for some sense of accomplishment, pride perhaps at taking down such skilled warriors, or joy at avenging his family. However, he felt nothing except the ache of his throbbing shoulder and the pain in his ruined ear. He had killed Slaughter, and for yet? TalonClan was broken now, with no leader, but that hadn't brought Clover back, now had it? She was still dead, and he was still alone.

Or was he?

As he blinked at the warriors staring at him, he saw a strange look in their eyes; awe, perhaps? Reverence, even, for defeating such powerful cats? They were looking to their new leader, he realized: Him. They had no one to turn to now, with Northstar gone and Slaughter dead. They needed someone to lead them, and he had defeated not only Slaughter's nine guards, but Slaughter himself.

They were waiting for something, but he didn't know what. He wasn't a motivational speaker; his family had never required him to be.

An image of the old leader, Fadedstar, flashed in his mind for a moment. Fadedstar had been a smooth talker, insisting that as long as Lion followed the plan, his family would be safe. Lion felt a flash of anger rippling through his pelt; Fadedstar had lied. Lion's family was dead, and probably would have been even if Zig hadn't launched the attack early. There had simply been too many warriors for them to defeat alone, and Fadedstar had known it. Lion saw everything so clearly, suddenly: Lion's group was a liability, a danger. Sending them to fight FrozenClan was like striking two mice with one swipe; both would be lost, leaving BirchClan standing alone and proud.

He realized his teeth had been bared in a snarl without realizing it. What was it that he had heard, lurking among TalonClan? Several BirchClan cats had fled like cowards, running out of the mountains. And one of them was Fadedstar's daughter….

The plan fell into place, so easily that Lion couldn't help but smile. He would have his revenge, not only on FrozenClan, but on BirchClan as well. Now, Clover would truly be avenged.

"TalonClan!" he yowled, and the Clan rippled, waiting eagerly for his words. "I have defeated your leader, and every cat that could hope to have a claim to leadership! There is no one else here who has the strength or the power to lead you. TalonClan, I, Lion, shall be your leader!"

TalonClan roared back at him, cheering, switching alliances without a second thought for their fallen leader.

"This is my friend, Brightfire," Lion flicked his tail at the ginger ShellClan tom. "He shall be my second in command; my deputy, as you cats used to call them before Slaughter blinded you. I need a medicine cat to tend to my wounds."

There was no motion for a moment, before the cats began moving to the side, allowing four young cats through, barely more than kits. They stared at Lion with wide, anxious eyes.

"We are the, ah, advisors," one mewed nervously. "That's what Slaughter chose to call them, after outlawing medicine cats speaking to StarClan…."

Lion studied them for a moment. _One from each Clan, _he noted. _One from BirchClan._ His eyes narrowed, as he realized every coward in BirchClan would be here. For a moment, he considered asking Brightfire to point them out to be executed, before realizing that he could use them to fight against their own kind, the three BirchClan cats that remained. He would hunt down Fadedstar's daughter and her friends like prey; only then would he kill off the remaining BirchClan cats, extinguishing their Clan.

"W-Will you come to our den?" one asked with a trembling voice. Lion glanced at Brightfire, who simply smiled at him warmly, his eyes glowing with pride at having helped overthrow the tyrant. Clearly, he thought that Lion would right what had been wronged, and split the four Clans once more. Lion didn't plan to, but he would allow Brightfire to think of it, for the moment.

He followed the four 'advisors' into a small den, stinking of herbs. They instructed him to lie down, and so he did, while the four of them looked him over. One bound his ruined ear, one tended to his injured shoulder, and the other two saw to his various other wounds quickly and efficiently; the medicine cat had taught them as if her life had depended on it, and it had until Slaughter had decided he had no more use for her and had her killed.

The BirchClan advisor was a gentle creature, named Feather for her soft tabby markings. Her pelt was silver-gray, and Lion guessed she was nearly seven moons old, the oldest of the four advisors. She said nothing as she licked his dirty fur, exposing another bite, but her face had a kind, thoughtful look to it.

"You'll have to stay here for at least a day, sir, while you heal," one advisor, name Berry, told him. Lion nodded, resting his head on his paws, feeling as if he had aged a year with every battle. He let out a soft sigh, only for his lip to curl as he thought of Fadedstar's treachery once more.

_Clover, I've only taken the first step, _he thought. _But I'm not stopping, understand? I'll see this through to the end. For you. I'll kill every BirchClan cat with my own four paws, if that's what it takes to avenge you._

**. N o r t h s t a r .**

"Come on, where did you go?" she wheedled. "Come on, tell me! Please? You spent the first two days here being all boring, just watching everyone all creepily, and then we finally take you on patrol and you disappear before we even get home! And you came back with a gleam in your eye and blood on your claws, I could smell it. Did you sneak off and eat prey without sharing? Is that why you're looking so sneaky?"

Northstar let out a groan, opening his eyes to stare at Rabbitpaw, wishing she would go away. "Foxclaw isn't your father," he said nastily, hoping to cause her enough pain that she would run away. It was true that Foxclaw was probably not her father; Mousepaw had inherited his mother's fur, but Rabbitpaw's fur was white splashed with gray, meaning her father was almost certainly not Foxclaw.

Instead of looking hurt, Rabbitpaw just giggled at him, infuriatingly. "Of course not," she laughed. "Foxclaw didn't want kits, but Fawncloud did. They're mates so we act like he's our father, but Stoneheart is, I think. He's gray, so it makes the most sense, right?"

Northstar simply stared at her. "Your father isn't your father? _And the Clan is fine with this?"_

Rabbitpaw's whiskers twitched. "Of course, silly. Sometimes queens and toms just don't see eye-to-eye, kits-wise. So they compromise, you know? Everyone does it. It happens all the time; just because a pair can't agree on kits doesn't mean they shouldn't be happy, right?"

Northstar stared at her in disbelief. FrozenClan had been a bit of a shaky Clan, but they looked like StarClan compared to these cats.

Not wanting to hear any more of her nonsense, Northstar abruptly rose to his paws. Rabbitpaw opened her mouth, probably to enquire as to where he was going, only to find herself with a mouth full of fur as Northstar's tail silenced her.

"I'm leaving, and you're not following," he growled. Rabbitpaw frowned, and made a muffled sound through the fur on his tail.

"Because I'm going to visit Rosedapple," he said, seizing the first idea that came to him; Rabbitpaw wouldn't want to visit the depressed queen. Rabbitpaw frowned again, but said nothing, even after Northstar released her from her silence. With that, Northstar padded out of the den, heading towards the sandy entrance marking the nursery.

Rabbitpaw was too nosy for her own good; he should have been more careful to wash the blood from his claws, but he had simply felt so _satisfied. _That loner had been a lucky find, skulking around the undergrowth, just the right type of cat for Northstar to take his anger out on: Anger at Crowtalon for stealing his Clan, anger at Lightstar for leaving Rosedapple so broken, anger at all of PeakClan for being so backwards and foolish in their ways.

He had left the tom either dead or dying, it didn't matter much; the tom was a fool for sticking around where Clan cats hunted, although the Clan cats were also fools for not having noticed him.

His thoughts buzzed about him like flies as he entered the nursery, only to blink in surprise at the black tom there sitting with Rosedapple. The tom turned as Northstar entered, blinking in surprise and quickly rising to his paws.

"Bye," he meowed to Rosedapple, giving her a quick lick on the ear before leaving the nursery. Northstar watched him go, and then turned back to the queen.

"Who is he?"

"Blackmoon," Rosedapple whispered in her gentle voice. "My friend."

Northstar's eyes narrowed. "Blackmoon?" he growled. The moon was sacred; the Gatherings revolved around it, the StarClan-greeting rituals depended on it, and now they were naming lowly warriors after the silver orb?

Rosedapple nodded slowly, staring down at her paws. Northstar glanced over his shoulder, relieved that Rabbitpaw hadn't followed him.

"So, how are you?" he asked, sitting down and wrapping his tail around his paws. Rosedapple glanced up at him quickly, as if surprised to be asked, before returning her blue gaze to her paws.

"Fine," she said softly. Northstar couldn't help but stare at her stomach, round with Lightstar's kits.

"Any day now, huh?" he asked. Rosedapple's blue gaze darkened, and she nodded, only to twitch with surprise as he touched her flank with his tail.

"You promised you'd wait until they were born, before you made any sort of decision," Northstar reminded her. "Until they're old enough that they don't depend on you for everything."

Rosedapple nodded again, still not looking at him.

"My mother didn't give me a choice," Northstar found himself saying, surprised at himself for dragging the words out. "She attempted to throw herself off a cliff. My father saw her and tried to save her, but could not…he was forced to cut open her belly and save us, her kits. There were three of us, all brothers. Two of them were white like my father and mother, but only I had my mother's black paws. My other two brothers were dead before my father could save them, but I lived…if I only had my mother's spirit, perhaps he would have loved me. My father never knew why she jumped. I never knew her." His eyes were dark and cold, and he was staring at Rosedapple without truly seeing her. She seemed to realize it, for when he cleared the fog in his mind, he found her staring at him with her gentle blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," she mewed, and it was the first time he had heard true emotion in her voice.

Northstar simply nodded, and the two of them sat there in silence for a moment, a gap between them. Northstar's pelt ruffled slightly at the awkward silence, and he finally rose to his paws.

"I'll…see you around, I suppose," he meowed. Rosedapple smiled at him, and he padded out of the den.

Rabbitpaw's mentor appeared to have fetched her, for the annoying apprentice wasn't in camp. Relieved, Northstar selected a mouse from the fresh-kill pile and settled down to eat alone, still feeling strange. He didn't know why he had told Rosedapple about his mother; it was as if her sorrow had somehow _pulled _the story out of him, as if she needed to hear it despite his own feelings about his mother.

He found himself reflecting on the kits themselves; what would they look like? Would they bear Lightstar's golden pelt, and cause Rosedapple daily pain? Or would they carry Rosedapple's gentle shades of gray and blue?

He turned suddenly as a black tom sat down beside him. He recognized him as Blackmoon, Rosedapple's friend, but said nothing.

"So, you and Rosedapple know each other?" The tom's voice was friendly, but his blue eyes were as intense as the startling blaze of white on his chest. Northstar glanced at him, took a bite of his mouse, and chewed slowly.

"Yes. Don't act as if you don't know it; Rabbitpaw says everyone knows I saved her from killing herself."

Blackmoon flinched at Northstar's phrasing of the incident. "Don't call it that."

Northstar's eyes narrowed. "That's exactly what it was. If I hadn't stopped her and convinced her to live long enough for the kits, she'd be dead now."

Blackmoon's eyes widened. "And then after the kits…?"

Northstar shrugged coolly. "Not my problem, now is it?"

Blackmoon's blue eyes clouded. "She's your Clanmate though, now. It is your problem."

Northstar snorted. "From what I've seen, half of the cats here don't give a lick about the warrior code. Why should I care about my Clanmates, then? Your name is as ridiculous as they come."

Blackmoon stared down at his paws. "I know. I hate it."

It was Northstar's turn to blink in surprise. "What?"

"Lightstar named me for my spirituality; I was wild as a kit until I fell out of a tree and nearly died. It scared me half to death, and gave me this." His tail flicked to his face, where there was a small scar, the only one that Northstar could see on his sleek pelt. "I was more serious and in tune with StarClan after that. I should have been the medicine cat, not Graywing, but she loved her duties then. She loved StarClan." His eyes had a far-away look to them. "And then she and Lightstar fell in love."

Northstar had stopped chewing. "You don't like the way this Clan is run?"

Blackmoon smiled at him. "It isn't for me to decide; I'm neither leader nor medicine cat nor deputy. My opinion doesn't really matter…but no, I don't like the way PeakClan is run, not at all. Even our name smacks of arrogance towards StarClan; we place ourselves on this pillar not for protection – we have no enemies, yet – but to place ourselves above the forests, where StarClan should reside."

Northstar stared at the black tom for a moment, and smiled. "It's good to see there is one sane cat in the Clan, at least."

Blackmoon smiled back and him, and then rose to his paws and padded away without another word. Northstar watched him go, and then finished his mouse.

It was then that Rabbitpaw returned, along with two other apprentices, a ginger tom and a dark brown tom. In Rabbitpaw's jaws was, of all things, a plump rabbit. She was smiling proudly as she set her catch down on the fresh-kill pile, and she grinned at Northstar.

"It's impressive, huh?" she asked, and continued without waiting for his grunt of acknowledgement. "Volepaw caught a really bit thrush, but he ate it on the way here. It was really cool, the way he jumped up and caught it…." Her eyes were glittering with admiration as she stared at the ginger apprentice.

"It was nothing," he said coolly, but his stomach was puffed out slightly.

"Well _I _caught this mouse!" the brown apprentice butted in, dropping his catch on the pile as well.

"It's just skin and bones," Rabbitpaw giggled, keeping her eyes on Volepaw.

"Your rabbit was a good catch," Volepaw said generously. "It was fast, but you were faster."

Rabbitpaw turned back to Northstar, clearly expecting some sort of praise. Grudgingly, Northstar had to admit that the rabbit was a catch, although its size would have slowed it down somewhat. He gave her a slight nod, but from the way she beamed at him it was as if he had handed her a star.

"Why don't you take your catch to the elders?" a dappled she-cat asked Rabbitpaw gently. "I'm sure they'd love a tender rabbit."

"Good idea!" Rabbitpaw chirped, grabbing her catch and racing towards another den.

"Wait for me!" the brown tom called, grabbing his mouse.

"Hawkpaw, your catch was barely enough for a kit to eat!" Volepaw yowled after him, before heading for the apprentice den. The dappled she-cat smiled at Northstar warmly.

"Apprentices, am I right?" she asked with a roll of her green eyes. Northstar nodded in agreement.

"Rabbitpaw's over the moon about you, you know; always chattering about how you saved Rosedapple and how you're so mysterious; as if we didn't already know!" Her voice was joking, but her green eyes were piercing. "At first I thought she had a crush on you, but hunting with Volepaw changed my opinion of that." Her whiskers twitched with amusement. Northstar simply blinked, unsure of how to reply to such comments. He hadn't asked for the apprentice's adoration, after all, following him around like a stray leaf buffeted by the wind.

"Although, it seems that Volepaw is trailing after Icepaw," she continued. "What is apprenticeship without a love-web, right?" She smiled again.

Northstar nodded, glancing away from her. Many apprentices had such troubles, he knew; Northstar himself had never truly been involved. He was always too shy, too quiet, only himself when with Brackenheart or racing. There had been one she-cat, Birdpaw, whose energy and life had captivated him. He had been working hard to become stronger and impress her, only to lose her in the same battle that claimed Brackenheart, more bodies piling up due to Frozenstar's folly.

Perhaps, he reflected, that was when his heart had iced over.

"My name is Dapplefern," the she-cat continued. "Everyone knows your name, of course; from what I've heard, it was quite a rescue, when you saved Rosedapple. She was going to throw herself from the cliff, wasn't she?"

Northstar shifted his paws slightly; it was one thing to tell it to Blackmoon, a friend of Rosedapple's, and quite another to tell it to this she-cat; she unnerved him, for reasons he couldn't quite explain.

"That's not for me to say," he said stiffly, and Dapplefern smiled, nudging him with her side.

"Oh, relax; Rabbitpaw was right, you're so uptight, you know? I think you just need to relax." Her tail touched his shoulder for a moment, sending an irritating prickle through his pelt. He moved to the left slightly, away from her touch. She smiled at him, but her eyes were strange as they traced over his pelt. Finally, she rose to her paws and padded away with a wink, leaving Northstar more puzzled than ever.

**AN: It's very satisfying when you can get not one, but two villain bait-and-switches; first we set everything up for Northstar to be the villain, only for him to be dethroned in chapter one. Then we brought in Slaughter, a Hitler-style kitty…and now we have our Lion, who you guys were rooting for. Hee~**

**Blackmoon is my brother's character; the name's bad, but it helps with the corruptness of the Clan. His original character was named Newmoon, but I promptly put my foot down on that! Even PeakClan wouldn't be that ridiculous. ;)**

**I changed a few names (mostly swapping prefixes for suffixes, to make more sense) from the create-a-cat reviews. :D**


	13. C h a p t e r 12

**AN: I've used several cats from reviewers so far (Ferndapple became Dapplefern, Raggedhawk became Hawkpaw, Shatteredice became Icepaw, Volepaw stayed Volepaw). They might not turn out how you planned, because of my needs, but I hope you like~**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**12**

Silverstreak stared down at Forest, feeling helpless. He was surely on the brink of death; how could a cat like herself, untrained in the arts of healing, hope to help him?

She shook herself; staring down at him wouldn't help anyone. She had to find cobwebs, and then something to keep infection at bay and sooth his wounds; dock leaves might do both, but she wasn't certain. She swallowed, wishing that Ravenwing was at her side, before leaving the den.

They only had a few days at best, before the trail of blood led the Clan cats to their den. She didn't know why Northstar had attacked Forest, nor did she quite understand why he had saved Natasha and the queen jumping into the river. Those were the acts of a hero, but she knew Northstar didn't have a heroic bone in his body. Saving Natasha had made sense; he needed a guide out of the Twolegplace, just as Silverstreak had…but why save a queen throwing herself from a river? Northstar couldn't have known there were Clan cats in the area, if he had only been there for a day; Silverstreak wouldn't have known either, if not for Forest. The Clan cats hadn't marked their territory, and patrols were rare. Saving a queen would just mean more mouths for the forest to feed, and the queen might not even be grateful to him if she had wanted to take her own life. There was truly nothing for Northstar to gain.

So why had he done it?

Troubled, she couldn't help but feel joy pounding in her chest as she spotted cobwebs, up in an old tree. The tree was dead and certainly rotten, but there were many cobwebs strung through its branches, to catch the insects feeding off of the dead wood. She crouched, leaping into the closest branch. Immediately, her injured shoulder cried out in pain. She winced, but continued climbing, gathering cobwebs on one paw. Her shoulder began throbbing, and soon the wound was open again, sending fresh blood running down her shoulder. She ignored the pain, gathering every scrap of cobweb she could without climbing too high; the branches creaked underneath her as it was, and she couldn't risk going too high in the rotten tree.

Finally she sprang down, landing on three paws, and began padding to look for dock leaves. Quickly, she realized that holding her forepaw up to keep the cobwebs clean would only slow her down; she sat down and painstakingly wrapped them around her paw instead, sighing as the stickiness tugged at her thick fur.

It took several hours before she found the dock leaves, and gathered them in her mouth. The juices were cool against her tongue, and it took all of her willpower not to swallow; every drop counted, if she was going to save Forest's life.

Finally satisfied, she padded back to their den, and the real work began. Silverstreak wasted several cobwebs attempting to dress his most serious wounds, before she got the hang of wrapping them just right. She worked as carefully as she could, sacrificing time to make sure it was done correctly. She then applied the dock leaves, and Forest woke up just long enough to let out a sigh of relief, before the darkness claimed him again.

It was only when she was satisfied with that, that she turned to the greatest danger: Forest's broken leg. It was twisted, but she managed to carefully guide it back to where it should lay. She touched his leg gently with her paw, trying to feel the break in the bone. She found it near two bite marks, where Northstar had grabbed him. The bone had shattered; all she could do was lay it straight and pray it mended properly.

It occurred to her that Forest would be moving and moaning as he came around again, and probably disturbing his leg. She would have to bind it, somehow. Simply wrapping it in cobwebs wouldn't do the trick; they wouldn't be strong enough.

She sat at the entrance of the den, thinking and frowning, trying to unravel her thoughts. If Ravenwing was here, she would know….

The wind picked up speed suddenly, gusting hard. Silverstreak shrank back into the den, ears flat, only to rise again as she scented ash on the breeze.

"StarClan?" she whispered. "Can you help me? I need to fix Forest's leg…but I don't know how. Please, how do I do this?"

The wind simply blew at her in reply; above her, the branches of the old oak creaked and swayed in the breeze. Suddenly, there was a cracking sound. Silverstreak moved backwards into the safety of the den as a small branch fell to the ground before her. It was long and straight, about as thick as her paw. Silverstreak stared at them, and the wind quieted. StarClan had caused them to fall, but why?

Her eyes gleamed in understanding, and she grabbed one of the sticks, breaking it in half with her jaws to make it fit into the den. She dragged it to Forest's side, and moved it so that it was lying against his leg. She took the other piece and did the same, so that Forest's leg was tight between them. Taking the last of the cobwebs, she bound the sticks to his leg, creating almost a brace; when Forest woke, even if he thrashed his leg would not bend or turn; hopefully it would heal, as straight as the sticks.

She felt a sense of relief, as sudden weariness came over her. Forest still seemed small, so small, lying in the den. She was suddenly reminded of his tale of being a kittypet, and remembered he was six moons younger than her; it wasn't a great span of time, merely the time a kit must wait before his training can begin, but it suddenly seemed like a huge gap, as if Forest himself had shrunken. She realized how foolish it all was; there was no way she could do this herself with her shoulder, gathering the herbs, changing his wounds each day, making sure everything healed properly, while hunting for the both of them and fetching water. There was the Clan to think about, and the dangers it held; how could she move him like this?

Her shoulders suddenly began to shake and she hung her head with sorrow. "I can't do it," she whispered. "StarClan, I can't do this. How can I keep him alive and make sure he is healthy, while keeping myself safe at the same kind? StarClan, I cannot…I left my friends for nothing. If I had stayed with them, Forest wouldn't have been hunting for the both of us…he would be safe and whole now. I was a fool, StarClan, letting your mission go to my head…I'm sorry, so sorry…." She trembled with sadness and the feeling of being small, until she felt a breeze stir her fur gently. She blinked slowly – how had the wind gotten into the den? – and again scented ash. For a moment, she could have sworn that she felt her father's pelt curled up around her, heard him whisper _StarClan will provide _before the wind suddenly quieted and the scent faded. She blinked slowly, unsure as to whether it had truly happened or she had imagined it, before letting out a soft sigh. Pushing her exhaustion away, she rose to her paws and padded towards the river. She drank as much as she could, filling her belly and tricking it into thinking it was full, before finding moss on a nearby boulder. She soaked the moss in the river, before heading back into the den. She was surprised to find Forest awake, his green eyes narrowed in pain.

"Hey," he whispered, and tried to smile his crooked smile at her, but he didn't have the strength.

"Hush," Silverstreak meowed, using some of the water to dribble over his face, refreshing him. The rest she allowed him to drink from, watching anxiously as he sucked up every last drop of water.

"How bad is it?" he murmured, his eyes drooping closed again.

"It's…." Silverstreak trailed off, uncertain as to what to say. Did she tell him how bad it was, or lie and tell him he would be fine? What would Ravenwing do?

"That bad, huh?" he asked, his eyes opening again when she didn't answer. "And the Clan cats?"

"They haven't come by, if that's what you're asking," Silverstreak mewed.

"Only a matter of time….How bad is it, really?"

"You've…got a lot of wounds." Silverstreak swallowed. "I've used cobwebs and dock, like you did for my shoulder. One of your back legs is broken, too; I used two branches to hold it together, though. I don't have any training in this sort of thing, Forest, I don't know how well anything will heal…but I tried."

Forest tried smiling again, succeeding this time. "Get out of here."

Silverstreak blinked at him. "What?"

"I kidnapped you…held you against your will…now you're risking your life hanging out here in an attempt to save mine. Don't waste your time…this was bound to happen, I was just careless…." Exhausted, his eyes closed again.

"I'm not leaving," Silverstreak growled. "Look, maybe I can find the Clan cats myself; they'll listen to me and I can ask for help from their medicine cat—"

"No!" Forest hissed, sounding fierce despite his weakness.

"Northstar is the only one that attacked you, if what I scented was true," Silverstreak snapped. "He's insane, the others won't be like that. I know your friend was killed, but medicine cats are sworn to help—"

"Clan cats," Forest growled. "Sworn to help Clan cats, not cats like me. They might take you in because you're one of them…but not me. They'd just let me rot here…they might never let you go."

Silverstreak's tail lashed, although she wasn't angry at Forest for being stubborn, or for being right; even the Clan's medicine cat would be loathe to help a loner who had been eating their prey for moons in secret.

"Go," Forest meowed again, and it seemed he had used the last of his strength.

"I won't," she said, just as stubbornly as he had protested, and rose to her paws. "I'm going hunting. I'll be back."

She stalked out of the den, still feeling angry. However, under the anger was worry; if she had really heard her father's voice, then perhaps StarClan would help her, but if she hadn't then everything was hopeless; she couldn't hope to care for Forest by herself.

She stepped in the forest slowly and carefully, her ears pricked for any sound of prey, her mouth open to catch the scents of both prey and any Clan cats in the area. Scenting a mouse, she crouched carefully, padding forward with a light tread, eyes locked on her target. The scents and smells seemed to fade around her, and she smiled as she realized she was in 'the zone', the state of mind where capture of prey was inevitable, where every pawstep seemed to find somewhere to settle, where the breeze blew in her favor, where the prey was too distracted to see death approaching. She took another step and then struck as quickly as lightning, feeling the mouse fight her paws before a quick bite ended the struggle. She picked it up in her jaws, smiling, feeling as if her very veins were pumping with energy, only for the look to turn into one of horror as she saw the bright blue eyes watching her from the bushes.

She couldn't run; she didn't know the territory, and she couldn't risk the warrior chasing her and finding Forest. She dropped the mouse and unsheathed her claws, ready for battle.

The eyes disappeared, and a dark tom strode forward. His blue eyes twinkled at her curiously, and her gaze was drawn to the blaze of white on his chest.

They stood like that for a moment, their gazes locked, until finally the black tom spoke.

"My name is Blackmoon. What is yours?"

Silverstreak blinked slowly; the name sounded like a warrior's name, but not quite right. He must be one of the cats that lived on the Pillar.

"I am Silverstreak," she mewed, and Blackmoon blinked in obvious surprise.

"It sounds like a Clan name; where are you from? Has StarClan sent you here?" He looked surprised, even hopeful. Silverstreak's eyes narrowed.

"My Clan was BirchClan, but we are no more," she replied stiffly. "You're from the Clan on the Pillar, are you not?"

"Yes; you seem to know quite a bit." Blackmoon cocked his head to one side, studying her. "Why are you here? Has StarClan brought you to our Clan?"

Silverstreak's ear twitched. "Sort of," she said slowly, not wanting to give much away to this stranger. He hadn't attacked her yet, but what might he do if she told him of her plans to create a Clan here, in his territory?

Blackmoon looked even more interested at her reply. "Really?" He flicked his tail. "Come with me. I'll take you to our leader, Lightstar."

The very thought of following him and seeing Northstar, probably safe and lounging around planning on how to seize power, was enough to make Silverstreak's lips peel back, exposing her fangs. Blackmoon looked alarmed, and she forced herself to relax.

"No thank you." She hesitated, and then moved to pick up her mouse.

"That won't be enough to feed both of you," Blackmoon meowed, making Silverstreak freeze.

"What?"

"I can smell him on you, another tom." Blackmoon gave her a sniff, and then a knowing look. "Spent some time in a den together, did you?"

Silverstreak flushed despite herself. "Not in the way you think," she growled.

"Is he hunting here as well? Is he another cat of your…BirchClan?"

Silverstreak hesitated again, but she took too long to answer.

"No?" Blackmoon guessed.

"No," she admitted. "He has no Clan blood in him."

Blackmoon frowned. "Is he hunting, then?"

"No," she said again. "He can't. He's injured."

Blackmoon appeared concerned. "Injured? How badly?"

Silverstreak swallowed. "Badly," she whispered.

"Come with me, back to the Pillar; I can get Graywing, our medicine cat, to look him over, Clan cat or not."

"No," she spat, bristling. "He's not going anywhere near you. One of your cats did this to him!" She regretted the words as soon as they left her, as Blackmoon's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"One of our cats attacked your friend? I heard nothing of this…no one reported finding a loner on our territory, let alone attacking him…most troubling." Blackmoon frowned. "It isn't surprising, I suppose…our Clan is not as it should be. We are weak, shaky, not as in tune with StarClan as we should be. Our medicine cat is going to give birth to the kits of our leader within the moon."

He spoke with ease, as if sharing common news with a Clanmate. Silverstreak stared at him, shocked. _Strange names and a leader, of all cats, mating with his medicine cat! _She thought. _This Clan is troubled indeed…and now they have Northstar among them…although, considering the Clan, he might actually be at home with them!_

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked. "I'm a stranger on your territory with a wounded friend who is a loner that one of your cats attacked. Why share news with me? For all you know, I'm an enemy."

"Your claws are unsheathed, but you haven't used them; if you were the bad sort, we'd already be fighting," Blackmoon meowed mildly. "Therefore I know you are not an enemy. You are a Clan cat, and your friend is a loner, and yet you are helping him anyway. This tells me you have a good and kind heart. Even though you are no longer in a Clan and are not in the company of warriors, you carry your Clan name. This tells me your belief in StarClan and your following of the warrior code are both strong, despite whatever trials you have endured." He smiled at her. "As a young cat after an accident that nearly killed me, I wished to become a medicine cat. However, our medicine cat already had an apprentice, Graywing – Graypaw, then – and she loved her duties. There was no hope for me to become a medicine cat, and yet I watched and followed them anyway, learning their duties and their ways. I have kept this knowledge within me, but never had to use it; perhaps StarClan intended for me to use it in this very moment, and planned it all along. I cannot possibly know this, but I have put my faith in them, and believe that our meeting was not by chance, that StarClan had provided it, perhaps for the benefit of both of us. Thus, I will help your friend."

Silverstreak simply stared at him, astonished at how strong his faith was despite the corrupt Clan he lived in. She could hear the belief in his voice, the quiet acceptance of the fate StarClan had given him. And she suddenly knew that she would trust him, both for his face and for his words. _StarClan will provide._

"Come," she said softly. She picked up the mouse and flicked her tail, starting to pad towards the den, before stopping. "My friend is very wary of Clan cats. He cannot do anything to you, but he will resist you. You must promise that you will not speak a word of this to anyone, of your Clan or otherwise."

"With StarClan as my witness, I shall not," Blackmoon said solemnly.

Silverstreak nodded, and she quickly led him back to their den by the river. Blackmoon's eyes followed the trail of blood to the entrance, but stopped when Silverstreak signaled for him to halt.

"Forest?" Silverstreak called, entering the den to see that he was awake, waiting for her. She set the mouse down in front of him, but he did not eat it.

"Don't like taking advice, do you?" he rasped.

"True warriors don't leave cats in pain," Silverstreak replied, nudging the mouse with her nose. "Don't think I'm getting fond of you, or anything."

Forest managed to let out a rough purr. "Of course not." He took a bite of the mouse and swallowed, blinking at her. "Well? You've got a look on your face. What is it?"

"You won't like it," Silverstreak confessed.

Forest's eyes narrowed. "The medicine cat?" he demanded. Silverstreak shifted her weight uneasily.

"Sort of; he wanted to be one, but couldn't," she meowed, and then seeing his expression, quickly added, "He isn't like the other Clan cats, I don't think; I just get a good feeling from him. StarClan sent he a sign earlier, saying that they would help, and he used their words almost exactly. Please, Forest, just let him help." By the end, she was pleading. Forest's eyes narrowed.

"No Clan cat is touching me," he spat.

"He will, if it's the only way you'll live!" Silverstreak shot back.

"I'd rather die!"

"I'll just force-feed you poppy seeds or something, to make you sleep," Silverstreak retorted. "You aren't strong enough to stop me. I'll do whatever it takes, Forest; I won't let you throw your life away over pride."

"_Pride?"_ Forest growled in disbelief. "I don't care about pride! I care about the fact that the cat who attacked me was his Clanmate!" He was panting, and Silverstreak realized with worry that the argument was wearing him out, burning up his strength.

"Please," she mewed, switching to begging again, hoping to calm him down. "I'll be with you the whole time, Forest, I promise. He'll just make sure you heal right; I'll handle everything else, I promise. He won't be able to hurt you, and if he tries or leads the other Clan cats to him, I'll kill him." She was surprised to realize that she meant her words; Blackmoon seemed like a good cat, but she wouldn't hesitate to kill him to protect Forest and herself.

Forest stared at her for a moment, and then closed his eyes with a slight sigh. "Fine. As long as you'll be here."

Silverstreak smiled with relief. "With StarClan as my witness, I shall," she meowed, echoing Blackmoon's words.

"May I come in?" Blackmoon asked from the entrance. Forest tensed.

"Yes," Silverstreak called, and the sleek tom padded into the den, brushing past Silverstreak gently. He stopped, staring at Forest with sorrow in his eyes.

"I am sorry that one of my Clanmates has done this to you," he told the injured tom. "You have my deepest regret." Forest grunted in reply.

Blackmoon took a step forward, walking around Forest as well as he could in the cramped space. "A little sloppy, but well done for a cat with no prior experience," he observed, touching a cobweb with a gentle paw. "This leg worries me, but you handled it correctly. My friend, bear with me, for this will hurt." He moved to adjust the sticks, and Forest let out a hiss of pain, his green eyes snapping open. They were unfocused for a moment, before locking onto Silverstreak with a burning intensity that Silverstreak couldn't look away from. Blackmoon took a step back, finished, and Forest's eyes closed again. Silverstreak took a step forward, sitting beside him and resting her tail against his forepaw gently, letting him know that she was still at his side.

"I think he should live," Blackmoon said finally, "as long as we can continue to care for him. I would like to move him, for the blood will lead any patrols this way towards your den…and it seems a storm is gathering; the river floods easily. This den is slightly uphill, so for most rains it would be fine, but my pelt crawls as the dark clouds grow nearer. I think this shall be a bad storm."

"We can't move him, with his leg," Silverstreak pointed out. Blackmoon nodded.

"We will have to leave him here for several days; hopefully this storm will not be as bad as I think," he replied. "I will attempt to join any patrols heading this way and guide them away, but I can promise nothing. Tomorrow at sunhigh, I will return to look at him, and help hunt if you wish."

Silverstreak nodded, and Blackmoon rose to his paws.

"I must leave, or the Clan will wonder where I have gone when I return with no prey," he meowed, dipping his head to them both.

"Thank you," Silverstreak meowed, more thankful than her words could express. Her tone seemed to say it for her, for Blackmoon's blue eyes softened.

"StarClan has willed it this way, I believe…and for a reason. Your friend will live, and I am honored to help," he said, and left the den. Silverstreak waited until his pawsteps faded, before turning back to Forest.

"Are you alright?" she asked anxiously.

"Except for my leg and the throbbing pain all over my body, yes," Forest answered, and there was some of his spirit in his green eyes as they gleamed at her. Their former intensity that had blazed while Blackmoon adjusted his leg had faded, to Silverstreak's relief; she didn't understand it.

"I can try and find some poppy seeds," Silverstreak offered, but Forest smiled at her.

"You've done more than enough…more than I deserve after how I treated you," he meowed. "Did you eat?"

"No," Silverstreak said, and frowned at him when he attempted to nose the mouse towards her. "You eat it, I'll catch something else," she meowed. "Hunting the coming storm will be hard; I'll try and hunt as much as I can today."

She nudged the mouse back towards him, and left the den.

She had to travel far and wide to gather all the prey she thought they might need during the storm, and even then she didn't have much luck; she came back at nightfall with a thrush, a water vole caught by the river, and a small sparrow. She ate the sparrow, and buried the thrush and vole near their den for later.

Above her the storm clouds rumbled, growing ever closer. As Blackmoon had said, there was a strange feeling about them, a bad one; this would be a great and mighty storm, and it worried her.

She curled up beside Forest, as the moon struggled to shine through the growing clouds.

. . .

She awoke expecting the sound of rainfall, but to her surprise, there was none. The storms lurked overhead as she peeked out of the entrance of the den, but they seemed to be carrying the rain in their bellies, for now. Hopefully, the quiet would last until Blackmoon came again to check on Forest.

She thought about redressing his wounds, but decided that Blackmoon would be the cat to do it, with his experience. Still, she would use the time given to her to gather cobwebs and dock leaves, as well as more prey and poppy seeds.

Feeling somewhat emboldened and cheered by having a plan, and the fact that Forest was almost sure to recover, she padded into the forest.

The cobwebs seemed easier to find, when she looked in the right places, and she already knew where the dock leaves were. She gathered as much as she could, planning on storing them in the den; she would head out to gather seeds later, and then prey.

Forest was awake again, stirring as she stored the cobwebs and leaves away. He seemed better, more cheerful, although there was a wariness in his eyes that spoke of his distrust for Blackmoon. Silverstreak was also nervous – what if he betrayed her to the Clan? – and she felt as if a stream of warriors could pour down on them at any moment.

"I'm going to gather seeds and some more prey before the storm arrives," she informed him. "There's a thrush and a vole buried nearby, are you hungry?"

"I'm not hungry," Forest answered with a yawn. Silverstreak nodded and returned her gaze to the herbs, only to feel his stare on her pelt. She glanced back at him, and saw that he was smiling his special smile at her, higher than the right than to the left. Silverstreak found herself smiling back, but she quickly turned her muzzle to the entrance of the den.

"I'll be back before sunhigh," was all she said as she left again.

Hunting was difficult once more; most of the prey seemed to be hiding in their burrows or in high branches that she couldn't reach with her wounded shoulder. She managed to catch a very slow squirrel, but that was all she was able to get. Disappointed and hoping that Blackmoon would have more to show for his efforts, she hunted for poppy seeds instead. They proved to be much easier for her to find, and using a leaf to hold them in her jaws, she retrieved her squirrel and padded back to camp. She buried the squirrel, digging up the thrush instead, and placed the poppy seeds beside the leaves. She laid down by forest with the thrush, allowing him the first bite. They shared the prey in silence; however, it was not the strange silence after their conversations before. It was an easy silence, like two old friends sharing tongues together without actually speaking.

Silverstreak turned her muzzle towards the den, waiting and listening for Blackmoon; it was sunhigh, or nearly so, as far as she could see through the thick cloud-cover.

At the sound of pawsteps, Forest stirred and Silverstreak rose to her paws, tense, her claws unsheathed in case Blackmoon turned on them after all.

His bright blue eyes appeared in the entrance, blinking at her curiously. In his jaws he held a jay, which he dropped at the entrance.

"Can you just bury it nearby?" Silverstreak asked. Blackmoon shook his head.

"If the river rises to your den, your prey will be washed away," he warned. "You won't want to dig it up in the pouring rain when you're hungry, anyway. I'll just put it with the herbs, if that's alright."

Silverstreak nodded, stepping to the side so he could pass. She dug up the squirrel and vole as well, setting them next to his jay with a murmur of thanks.

Blackmoon began looking at Forest's wounds immediately, removing the old dressings and replacing them with new ones. Forest let out quiet mumbles of pain, only to be soothed as the dock leaves were reapplied. Silverstreak offered a poppy seed, but he clenched his jaws, only eating it when Blackmoon said he was about to check his leg again (although the fact that Silverstreak threatened to shove it down his throat might have contributed).

"Everything seems to be fine," Blackmoon observed. "His leg is healing well, as are his other injuries. I'm a bit worried about infection, though; dock leaves alone won't ward against that. There is a plant, marigold; the yellow-orange leaves hold a juice that can stave off infection. I'd suggest gathering some before the storm."

As he spoke, thunder rumbled overhead, and suddenly a wall of rain descended upon them, pounding just outside the den. Blackmoon's eyes widened in alarm.

"I guess the marigold will have to wait," Forest said with a slight smile, amused. "You'll have to dash back to camp all wet and bothered."

Silverstreak turned to glare at him. "He's helping save your life; don't be rude," she growled, before turning to Blackmoon. "You can stay here with us until the storm passes, if you like."

Blackmoon shook his head. "I don't know how long the storm will range; too long, perhaps. I must cross the river before it becomes too high." He turned back to the pouring rain. "Even if the den doesn't flood, water will begin to seep in if the rain changes direction," he pointed out. "You should use something to block it; a stone, perhaps."

Silverstreak's ears flattened, remembering the feeling of being buried alive. Still, they could get a stone that was as wide as the den but not as high, to block most of the rain.

"I'll help you find one," Blackmoon promised, and the two of them left the warm safety of the den, into the pelting rain.

Almost immediately, Silverstreak was soaked to the bone. Her ears flattened as her pelt crawled with the feeling of water seeping through her fur, chilling her flesh. She peered through the rain, struggling to see two tail-lengths in front of her.

They stared the search for the perfect stone near the oak's roots, ignoring the large boulder still stained with Silverstreak's blood, the one that Forest had used to keep her in the den. As she watched, it seemed the rain was beating the blood away, sending it into the earth. Her eyes widened, as she realized the rain would also sweep away Forest's blood leading to the den, and even the scent of Northstar where Forest was attacked. Despite the rain, she shot a glance up at the heavens.

_StarClan will provide, _she thought, and sent them a fervent thanks before continuing.

They found their rock, finally, and the two of them rolled it back to the den. Silverstreak ducked inside, while Blackmoon rolled the stone into the entrance, blocking most of the rain and allowing the clouds to be seen. He smiled at them through the small opening, his gaze sweeping over them. Silverstreak thanked the storm for also cleansing her shoulder, lest Blackmoon see her wound and insist upon helping; he was risking himself as it was; the river might already be too high to cross.

"Huddle together for warmth," he advised, and although his tone was light, Silverstreak wasn't sure whether he was teasing or serious. Choosing to ignore the comment, she thanked him again, and his bright blue eyes disappeared as he headed into the storm to return to his clan.

"You heard him," Forest purred, and it was clear he was teasing her; she found that she liked that about him, his light heart and gentle tone, bright even despite the pain. "Come on over here, or I might freeze to death." His green eyes danced as he watched her, reminding her again of sunlit leaves.

"I'd hardly help, as soaked as I am," she replied, giving herself a good shake and sending water droplets flying, spotting the dirt of the den.

"I won't complain," Forest promised, and this time he was staring at her in a different way, one that made her pelt prickle in a way she didn't quite understand.

"Fine," was all she said, and she tucked herself in next to him, snug in the small space of the little den. "Happy?"

"Blissful," Forest answered, resting his head on his paws. His eyes slowly closed, and within moments, he was asleep. Silverstreak watched him for a moment, staring at the curl of his muzzle – even in sleep it appeared he was smiling, curling a little higher to the right than to the left – before she too rested her head on her paws, and closed her eyes. As she drifted off, her father's words swirled around her ears,

_StarClan will provide._

**AN: Blackmoon isn't so important because he's my brother's cat; don't get the wrong idea. My brother gave me an outline of his character, which just so happened to perfectly fit to my needs (my brother hasn't read far enough to know that Forest even exists), so I've twisted his character a bit to fit the scenario, like I do every other character I've created myself.**

**Silverstreak and Forest have only been together for four days. It feels like a lot longer when you're writing, though. .**

**HOMEHOMEHOME~! We came home early, and I'm squeezing inside! Enjoy!**


	14. C h a p t e r 13 Northstar & Eaglestrike

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**13: Northstar & Eaglestrike**

_There were two of them, white cats sitting in front of him. They were paw-deep in shadow – or something resembling shadow. Come to think of it, the entire clearing was shrouded in shadow, making his pelt crawl._

_He blinked, and suddenly the two white cats changed. Before they had been identical, but now they had changed; not their faces, not their features, but something else, something inside of them. The cat to the left seemed to shine with a bright inner light, glowing fiercely as if trying to banish the shadows surrounding him. His eyes widened as he realized the cat was the spitting image of his father, Frozenstar._

_He quickly turned to the other cat, only to feel repulsed. This cat also looked like Frozenstar, but his pelt was dark, as close to grey as possible while still being white. His face seemed to glower with a coldness that sent an icy shard of fear into Northstar's hearts. The very shadows seemed drawn to him, and he knew that the dark Frozenstar was evil, just as the light Frozenstar was good._

_He blinked again, and when his eyes opened, the two Frozenstars had become one. Light and dark seemed to rage within the cat, sending brief flashes of light sparking out, only to fade as his pelt darkened, only to give way to light once more. The Frozenstar-clone stared at Northstar, and their gazes were locked, until the Frozenstar-cat suddenly turned and padded away into the darkness. He chose his path carefully, raising each paw slowly and deliberately. With a shiver of fear, Northstar saw that the Frozenstar-clone's paws were black. The cat wasn't Frozenstar at all._

_It was Northstar._

He awoke to a nudge, and stared up at Rabbitpaw's curious face.

"You were making weird noises, little squeaks like you were scared," Rabbitpaw meowed anxiously. "Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare? I do sometimes, and Graywing gives me honey to make me feel better; she doesn't anymore, I mean she did when I was a kit. Sometimes I used to pretend to have nightmares to get the honey from her, it was so yummy—"

"I wasn't scared," Northstar interrupted. "I don't get scared."

Rabbitpaw stared at him, amused. "Everyone gets scared."

"Not me," Northstar growled, and then his eyes narrowed. "Were you watching me sleep?"

Rabbitpaw looked almost ashamed. "Maybe."

Northstar let out a hiss, and glanced out of the entrance of the den; it was morning, but just barely.

"I'm going back to sleep," he rumbled.

"But I want you to come on the dawn patrol with me! Please?" Rabbitpaw pleaded. "Please please? I'm sorry if waking you up made you angry, but I just wanted you to come on patrol with me. I bet you could teach me loads more than Dapplefern, couldn't you?" She stared at him with begging eyes. Northstar almost felt a twinge of pity, but Rabbitpaw's mentor's name left a sour taste in his mouth; she was strange, and he didn't like her.

"I'm going back to sleep," he said again, "and if you wake me up again, so help me…." He let the threat hang in the air, before closing his eyes again. He was afraid of what he might dream, but he wouldn't let Rabbitpaw see it, and he was going nowhere with Dapplefern; she had seemed friendly enough ,but something was off about her, something that he didn't entirely like.

He was not disturbed by Rabbitpaw again.

. . .

At first, he thought the pounding rain had woken him up. His eyes were closed as his ear twitched, listening to the rain roaring as it raced to the ground, while the thunder rolled overhead. His pelt prickled as if he was being watched, and he heard an anxious meow,

"Northstar, wake up! Please!"

Realizing that the voice must have called to him and been what had woken him, Northstar let out a hiss.

"Rabbitpaw, if it's you, I'm going to rip your—" He stopped speaking as he opened his eyes to find Graywing's panicked face peering down at him.

"Thank StarClan you're awake," she breathed. "Come on, hurry."

Northstar blinked slowly, feeling confused and somewhat sluggish; his sleep had been fitful and uneasy, plagued with visions of mysterious cats of light and shadow.

"I'm not going out in that storm, if that's what you want," he growled, glancing her up and down, noticing her swelling belly. "If you need to gather herbs, find someone else to go with you. I'm tired."

"It's nearly sunhigh, you should be awake anyway," Graywing snapped, "and it isn't me. It's Rosedapple."

Northstar's eyes widened, and he sat up. "What? Is she injured?" he demanded.

"She's kitting, Northstar, and she's calling for you," Graywing answered, with an anxious glance towards where the nursery lay. "Please, come with me. She wanted Blackmoon, but he isn't here, I don't know where he is. He might have been injured in the storm, he left camp awhile ago by himself…I tried to tell her, and then she started calling for you instead…." Graywing let out a sigh. "She doesn't have many friends, Northstar, everyone kind of drifted away from her after Lightstar left her." There was no bitterness in her voice or venom for Lightstar's first mate, only sadness. "Blackmoon is the only cat that stuck by her. And then she tried to kill herself, and well….You're the closest thing she has to a friend that's in camp right now. She needs you."

Northstar swallowed. "Alright. I'll come."

Graywing smiled, but it was taut with worry. "Let's go." She ducked out of the den into the rain. Northstar followed her, almost losing her in the rain; her gray pelt blended in almost seamlessly with the torrential downfall. He followed her white-tipped tail as best he could into the sandy entrance of the nursery – the sand had turned into thick mud – into the nursery itself. Rosedapple was on her, panting.

"Rosedapple, Northstar's here," Graywing mewed soothingly, motioning for Northstar to take a step forward. He moved to Rosedapple's side, and her gaze softened as she saw him standing over her.

"Thank you," she whispered. Northstar, uncertain of what to do, gave her a small smile. It seemed to be enough, for her eyes closed with a gentle sigh.

"Keep near her head, lick her or something," Graywing ordered, moving around Northstar so that she was standing near Rosedapple's tail. "The first kit should be along soon."

Northstar glanced at her, his pelt ruffled at being ordered around by a kit, but when Rosedapple let out a cry of pain, he quickly licked her ear as Graywing had directed. Rosedapple's eyes opened, only to roll as she let out another yowl.

"I can almost see the first kit, push!" Graywing meowed, her tail lashing anxiously. Northstar glanced at her, guessing that Graywing was seeing not only Rosedapple's kitting, but her own as the first kit appeared, with a head of Lightstar's gold.

Rosedapple let out a gasp, almost a moan, as the first kit came all the way out. Graywing was on it immediately, licking it to get it breathing. Obediently, Northstar continued licking Rosedapple to soothe her, murmuring comforting words into her ear. He wasn't thinking about the words he chose, nor the licking, just moving as if his mind wasn't there, as if it was focused only on the kits being born.

The second kit was golden as well, although it was a lighter color than the first, more of a golden-brow, with dainty white paws. This one was given to Northstar to lick, and he felt the kit tremor under his tongue, letting out a mewl that he felt rather than heard. He carefully nudged it towards Rosedapple's belly, and returned to his licking of the queen.

The third kit was Rosedapple's soft gray, but even after Graywing did her best to urge it to breathe, it was still.

"Damaged when she jumped," Graywing murmured, more to herself than to Northstar or Rosedapple, but Northstar heard and felt a prickle of guilt; if he had moved more quickly, more gently, would the kit have lived?

_Let there be another, _Northstar found himself pleading. _Just one more, gray like Rosedapple, so when she looks at her kits she won't have to always be reminded of the tom who left her…._

However, Rosedapple's breathing gradually quieted, as her shudders eased. Graywing glanced at Northstar, before padding to Rosedapple's side.

"You've got two beautiful kits," Graywing meowed in a voice as smooth as honey. "You did an excellent job; everything's fine. Both of your kits look strong. You'll be tired for a little bit, and maybe feel a bit ill, but you have to eat to ensure that they get the milk they need; there are no other queens to nurse them yet. Okay?"

Rosedapple just gave a tiny nod. Graywing gave Northstar a nod of thanks, and then picked up the stillborn kit, padding into the storm to bury it somewhere close to camp.

Northstar gazed down at the two golden kits tucked against Rosedapple's dappled side. The queen didn't move to lick them, smell them, or even to look at them. She remained on her side, letting out a sigh.

"They're very strong kits," Northstar noted. He rolled the first one over, ignoring its squeal of protest, and studied it closely, before doing the same to the second. "A tom and a she-cat, I think. That's nice, isn't it?" His voice sounded strange to his own ears, and still Rosedapple didn't move to look at her kits. He had seen kittings before – as a leader, it was his duty to make sure everything went well, even if he left most things in the paws of the medicine cat – but the queens had always moved to nuzzle their newborn kits, to stare at them with wonder and gentleness in their eyes. Rosedapple did none of these things; it was as if her kits didn't exist.

"Are you going to name them?" Northstar asked, anxious at her disinterest. Graywing was eating borage leaves, but she wouldn't have milk for the kits yet. What would they do, if their own mother didn't care for them?

"I don't care," Rosedapple said, her voice heavy with weariness and sadness. "You do it."

Northstar blanched. "M-me? Are you sure?" _You should do it, you're their mother, _he thought, but didn't voice the words; Rosedapple was in a delicate state of mind, and misplaced words could shatter what she had left.

"Yes," she answered.

"Shouldn't we wait for Blackmoon?" Northstar asked nervously. Blackmoon was her real friend, not him, a leader cast out of his own Clan.

Rosedapple turned to look at him; her blue eyes were soft as she gazed at him. "You were here for me," she replied, "not Blackmoon. You name them."

Northstar swallowed, and stared down at the two mewling kits. The golden tom was the spitting image of Brackenheart. Just the thought of his mentor made Northstar's heart clenched; even he had turned away from Northstar in his time of need. And yet, out of every cat in StarClan, it had been Brackenheart who had warned Northstar, told him of the wrong turn his path had taken….

"Brackenkit," he said, and Rosedapple nodded, still looking disinterested.

"And the other? The she-cat?" she asked.

Northstar watched the second kit, the smaller of the two. Her pelt was pale in comparison to Brackenkit's, closer to the color of a sparrow than of leaves in leaf-fall.

_Sparrowkit? _He wondered, but even sparrows didn't have the same color of dusty-gold as this kit. Some other bird, perhaps?

Without quite meaning to, he found himself turning his thoughts to the only other cat who had meant anything to him, the only other cat he had truly lost: Birdpaw. He pictured her in his mind, saw her soft brown pelt and her dainty white paws, paws much like the little kit held. She hadn't taken much notice of him, but he had been painfully shy; they had spoken to each other once, on a patrol, and that was when he had found himself watching her as she interacted with the other apprentices. Everything was so easy for her; she made friends easily, prey seemed to fall into her paws, and the warriors even let her eat with them. Fighting had been the only thing Birdpaw hadn't been good at, and it was that which had led to her downfall. This kit was small and would probably never be a fighter, but with a brother as healthy as Brackenkit, would she need to?

"Birdkit," he murmured, before he could change his mind. Rosedapple nodded again.

"Brackenkit and Birdkit," she said aloud, as if tasting the words on her tongue. "Brackenkit and Birdkit."

Northstar glanced out of the nursery, where the storm continued to pour. The smell of blood hung in the nursery, making him wrinkle his nose, but the mist seeping into the den from the falling rain would wash the scent away eventually.

The thought made him turn to the tom he had attacked in the forest, and he smiled. No cat had found the body or they would have said so, and now the rain would wash his scent away, his crime. No cat would know what he had done, and for that he was glad. The hurt and shock on Rabbitpaw's face entered his mind as he pictured her realizing he was a murderer. The thought was strangely painful, and he flinched away from it.

He glanced at Rosedapple, and was surprised to see that she had moved to sit up, gazing at her kits. There was no sorrow in her eyes, as he would have expected, nor love, only a strange curiosity as if Rosedapple could not believe the two kits were those that she had cared within her for the last two moons. Slowly, she moved her tail around the two kits, tucking them away from the rain.

Relieved, Northstar smiled.

**. E a g l e s t r i k e .**

His tail twitched as he stared up at the ledge, upon which the golden tom ascended. Lion, leader of TalonClan. He couldn't help but smile, watching his new leader; Lion wouldn't lead for long, surely. He had been there when Fadedstar had aligned with Lion, requesting his help; it was unfortunate that Lion's kin had died, but Fadedstar had thought that Lion had perished as well; he remembered how conscience-stricken Fadedstar had been, how anxious and worried. Fadedstar had believed that FrozenClan would send out smaller patrols; he had underestimated their numbers, a mistake that had caused Lion's family to perish. Perhaps, Eaglestrike reflected, the misery over the loss of life from both Lion's group and BirchClan itself had contributed to his death, along with the forest-sickness.

He glanced to his left, where Brightfire sat with his sister, a pretty silver queen named Rainsplash. Eaglestrike smiled at the ginger tom, who caught his smile and returned it. Just as Lion had apparently been lurking among TalonClan, so had Eaglestrike, right under Slaughter's nose; Slaughter had been too secure in his own power to notice that not every cat was as loyal as they appeared. Brightfire himself had been the first to voice any concerns about Slaughter's reign, even back when he was known as Crowtalon. Many cats had thought it surprising, considering that Brightfire was of ShellClan; they were a proud bunch, but buckled under any sort of pressure. Brightfire seemed to have risen against the stereotype, however, as one of the most fierce and loyal warriors Eaglestrike knew. Brightfire had recognized Eaglestrike on sight, even though he had attempted to keep a low profile and cloak himself with mud, to both hide his scent and to make him harder to recognize. Instead of reporting to Slaughter that BirchClan's deputy was in his midst, Brightfire had instead helped Eaglestrike, finding him a nearby den in which to hide, hunting for him when TalonClan was busy milling about. Eaglestrike owed his life to the ginger tom, surely.

And now, this long charade would come to an end. Lion would restore the four Clans to their proper forms and territories; Lion was a loner, not one to lead a Clan.

And so Eaglestrike readied himself, for when Lion spoke of re-creating BirchClan, Eaglestrike would rise to his paws and tell his Clanmates that he was in fact alive, that he would lead them through this troubling time. Few BirchClan cats had joined TalonClan, and those that had would live with shame in their hearts for moons to come, but he was certain that he could create their proud Clan once more. Fadedstar had raised him like a son, put all of his trust in him; he wouldn't let the old tom down.

"TalonClan," Lion rasped, his voice rough and tired. His shoulder was bandaged in cobwebs, as were his other wounds, except for his ruined ear; it was pricked high, as if Lion was proud of the proof of his battle with Slaughter. "Only yesterday, I defeated Slaughter and his nine guards, and took power. I have been in hiding here since the Clan fell, watching and learning. I know you were once four Clans."

Eaglestrike's ears pricked eagerly, waiting for Lion's words with bated breath. Soon, BirchClan would rise again.

"FrozenClan, MarshClan, ShellClan, and BirchClan," Lion continued. "Those that are here turned their backs on their Clans, to save their own pelts. If you split into four Clans again, your Clans would be small and weak."

Eaglestrike's pelt prickled; something wasn't right.

"As TalonClan, we are united and strong," Lion continued. "Some may say that I am not a leader, that I was only a loner before. They are correct. What they do not know is that I led a group of loners; under my leadership we prospered and grew…until we were betrayed." His golden gaze swept over the ground, and with a glance around Eaglestrike saw that he had every cat under his spell. "We were living in BirchClan's territory, and when Fadedstar learned of our existence, he demanded that we side with him against FrozenClan, or die."

Eaglestrike's ears flattened. _That isn't how it went at all! _He thought angrily. _Fadedstar gave them a choice to side with him, or leave. We wouldn't have killed them!_

"We had no choice but to fight. But it was a trap, TalonClan, a trap; there were many more FrozenClan warriors on our first mission than Fadedstar had guessed. He was using us to kill them, to get rid of both of us at once. It almost worked…but I survived. I hid and watched as BirchClan fell, as Northstar rose to power, and then as Slaughter overtook him. I vowed vengeance on FrozenClan for killing my family. I have found that vengeance by killing Slaughter." He paused for a moment. "However, my thirst for revenge is not yet sated. BirchClan wronged me as equally as FrozenClan did. And yet, their leader is dead and they are no more. I cannot have my revenge on them, can I?"

Glancing around, Eaglestrike saw the ex-BirchClan cats in the crowd looking nervous, shifting their paws.

"This is where you are wrong. BirchClan is not leaderless. Most of their cats remain here, but several managed to get away, as you all know. One of them is Silverstreak, Fadedstar's daughter. She fled with two of her friends, and perhaps with Eaglestar as well. Those are the leaders of what was once BirchClan. Those are who I must have revenge on, killing Fadedstar's kit as he killed mine."

Eaglestrike's eyes were wide as he stared at Lion, unable to believe what he was hearing. He knew that Silverstreak, Frostfeather and Ravenwing had fled; he had thought they'd be safe. But now, Lion and the might of TalonClan would be coming after them…unless the BirchClan cats would take a stand.

Lion seemed to realize this as Eaglestrike did, for me smiled slightly.

"You cats who are of BirchClan blood do not need to feel fear," Lion said. "You are loyal TalonClan cats, as I know. It is Silverstreak, who fled before the battle even began, who is not loyal. She and her friends left their Clan mates in their hour of need! She and her friends might have made all the difference between victory and defeat for BirchClan…and yet, she fled."

Several BirchClan cats were nodding, their eyes glinting with anger, following Lion's rough words as easily as they had Slaughter's silver speeches.

"You shall all have your revenge upon them, as I shall," Lion announced. "We will wait until our scouts, our strongest warriors, return. Only then shall we move forward, as stubbornly as MarshClan's mud, as quickly as ShellClan's waves, as strong as BirchClan's trees, and as mighty as FrozenClan's mountains!" He ended his speech with a roar, sounding like a true lion of legend. TalonClan cheered, so loudly that Eaglestrike's paws vibrated with the sound of it. For a moment, Eaglestrike thought he was the only one to remain silent, until he saw that Brightfire and Rainsplash had also not cheered along. Brightfire's eyes were wide an anxious, as he realized he had helped overthrow a tyrant and bring another to power. Brightfire's gaze flitted to Eaglestrike, and he froze, certain that the ginger tom would betray him to Lion. Brightfire simply flicked his tail, signaling for Eaglestrike to flee; it was only a matter of time before some other BirchClan recognized him and called him out for who he was.

Without hesitation, Eaglestrike fled, pushing his way through the crowd with his head low. So enthralled were they with their new leader, that they did not question the strange cat with mud on his pelt who disappeared down the mountain.

. . .

He stared up at the sky, the stars twinkling above. A chilling breeze swept through his pelt and he shivered, making the branch he was perched on rattle.

What now? He knew when the scouts would arrive, about a moon-and-a-half away from now. Did he dare stick around, try to learn of Lion's plans? Lion might recognize him, for Eaglestrike had been at the meetings when Fadedstar and Lion conversed. He could perhaps remain hidden, keeping up his disguise and learn as much about the coming battle as he could, perhaps even gleam where Silverstreak might be hiding.

The thought of the she-cat who had been raised as his sister tugged on his heartstrings, bringing sorrow along with the pain. An image rose in his mind, of a black she-cat with a sleek pelt, and green eyes the color of new shoots.

_Ravenwing, _his heart whispered, and he felt a rush of longing, of wanting to curl up with her in a nest between the two old oaks near camp, as they had done so many moons before, before FrozenClan was anything but a group of strange warriors on a looming mountain. He wanted to touch her sleek pelt with his own, gaze into her eyes, promise her the moon and the stars.

And just like that, he knew he wasn't going to stick around. If there was even the faintest chance of him finding her, he was leaving. He had stayed behind in hopes that BirchClan would be restored, but he could see that would never happen now. BirchClan was lost in the past, as much as LionClan or TigerClan ever was. He didn't know why Ravenwing had left without ever saying goodbye, but he would find out. He would find the truth, no matter what it was, and they would be together as they should be, as Ravenwing had always wanted.

He smiled at the thought, remembering when they had been kits; he and Silverstreak had been close, like brother and sister, with timid Ravenwing always looking on. He hadn't noticed her then, having eyes for nothing but the warrior code, wanting to be the best warrior he could be. He was halfway through his apprenticeship before a blunt Frostfeather had told him about her sister longing for him. With Frostfeather threatening to cut his tongue off if he didn't at least talk to her sister, he had, and in shy Ravenwing he had found a beautiful, smart she-cat. Of course, she had been a medicine cat apprentice then, and for the first time he was torn between the warrior code and loyalty to himself, his own heart. Ravenwing had chosen for him, giving up her dream of becoming a medicine cat to instead be with him, something that he had never forgotten. They had been blissfully happy together. That was how it had been, and up until the day BirchClan fell, he had been convinced that was how it would always be.

"Ravenwing," he whispered, as if the wind could somehow carry his words to his mate, who was almost certainly sleeping with the stars gazing down on her, "I'm coming."

**AN: Baww, Northy really does have a heart. Enjoy the double update, guys; I expect to see double the reviews! ;D**


	15. C h a p t e r 14

**AN: I'm gonna try to use at least one character from each reviewer. Because I love you guys.**

**Feather is Feathermoon, but her suffix might change, my brother is overjoyed that you all love Blackmoon, and Northstar isn't turning into Frozenstar; Northstar is the spitting image of his father, except for his paws, which is why he thought at first the dream-cat was Frozenstar, and the reason GrayxLight is bad but RavenxEagle isn't, is because Gray is still a medicine cat. Raven gave up being medicine cat apprentice so she could be with Eagle instead, and not break the warrior code…because forbidden love is over-rated. :D**

**Me? Tease you guys over a pairing? When would I **_**ever**_** do that to you? WhitexTiger, TigerxFox, WhitexBat, TigerxGinger (JtR, not TR), SnowxFrost, TabbyxSlate, GleamxGale don't count. ;)**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**14**

Silverstreak woke to the sound of rain pounding against the earth. She blinked in amazement; the storm was still going on, and even more amazingly it was just as fierce as when it had started. She quickly rose to her paws to check the boulder, but it had done its job well, allowing only a small amount of water to build up near the entrance. Relieved, Silverstreak turned back to Forest.

Her stomach rumbled, but she pushed the hunger away; they only had a few pieces of stale prey, prey that might need to last for some time, if the storm continued pouring away outside.

She nibbled her lip nervously, the tip of her tail flicking with agitation. Hopefully Blackmoon had been able to return to camp safely without causing any alarm, but that meant he wouldn't be able to get to them again until the storm stopped, or even until the river resumed its normal level. That could be days; would she be able to take care of Forest by herself?

"You look worried," she heard him meow. His voice was slightly raspy; he was probably thirsty, even with all of the rain outside.

"Yeah," she said softly; there was no point in trying to hide her anxiety from him, after all; he could see it on her face, hear it in her voice. "I don't know when the storm will stop, and when Blackmoon will be able to get to us again."

"We don't need that Clan-furball," Forest said dismissively, quickly adding, "no offense."

Silverstreak simply flicked her ear at him. "Not every Clan cat is bad; even in a corrupt Clan like this one, there are good cats," she answered. Forest made a sound in the back of his throat, a skeptical noise.

Silverstreak started pacing, an attempt to relieve the tension, but quickly stopped once she realized there was hardly room in the cramped space. Claustrophobia rose in her again, as she stared out of the narrow entrance, watching the silvery rain fall to the ground.

"Relax," Forest urged. "Come on, sit by me again. There's no point in worrying, and this time there isn't a boulder blocking the entrance to keep you in; it's just keeping the rain out." He paused for a moment. "I did say I was sorry about that, right?"

Silverstreak's whiskers twitched despite herself, and Forest smiled, the tip of his tail tapping the ground beside him, inviting her to lie down. With a sigh, she did so, careful not to brush against any of his wounds.

"Feeling okay?" she asked anxiously. Forest rolled his bright green eyes at her.

"Don't worry about me, princess," he said with a low purr. She blinked at the unfamiliar word.

"Princess?"

"It's what Mother used to call her she-cat kittypets," Forest answered, resting his head on his paws. "Just a little pet name, you know? It kind of slipped out, I'm sorry."

"Princess," Silverstreak said, testing out the word. "It's strange…but kind of nice."

Forest smiled his crooked grin at her, and Silverstreak felt a strange sort of warmth. When he had first held her captive, she had thought she would learn to hate that crooked grin, which she had thought spoke of arrogance. Now, she saw it was simply his good nature shining through, and she found herself hoping his muzzle would curl higher to the right than to the left whenever he smiled, to let her know that it was a real smile of his, not a forced one like so many other cats gave.

She realized she was staring into his green eyes, and glanced away quickly. She and Forest were quiet a moment, his tail absentmindedly tapping her side. Outside, the rain continued to drum against the ground, although when Silverstreak cocked her head to one side, she could swear she heard a sort of song, a certain beat the rain held as it streaked towards the dark earth. She listened to it intently, wondering how she hadn't heard it before. What was different, now? What had changed?

"Tell me about your friends," Forest said. Silverstreak glanced at him, and saw there was a tightness to his face; he was in pain, but he wouldn't admit it. She doubted he would eat a poppy seed, either; her stories would have to distract him from it.

"Frostfeather and Ravenwing?" she asked, and he gave a small nod. Silverstreak was quiet for a moment, thinking.

"Frostfeather are sisters," she said slowly, "and complete opposites, even in color. The only way you'd know they were sisters is that they have the same green eyes. Frostfeather is bold, loud, and brave. She's the first to go charging into battle and the last one to flee. She does whatever it takes to get what she wants, whether it's the safety of her Clan, or just a tom. But she's not all fiery; she's got a gentler side to her too, behind the energy and the snappy attitude. She's fond of toms, with no real preference; shy ones, brave ones, weak ones, strong ones, bright ones, dull ones…she takes whatever she wants. But she won't steal from her friends, ever. She had a crush on Eaglestrike until she learned that Ravenwing liked him too…he's one of the few toms she never…you know." She sighed quietly. "She probably broke the warrior code with toms from every Clan – except FrozenClan, I doubt even she would g that far – until it finally caught up with her. That's why I was so angry, you know…she slowed our mission down, but she could have never known that in advance. The fact that she'd go off with a tom from another Clan, during a Gathering no less…." Her fur was ruffled, she realized, and she quickly smoothed it with a few licks.

"I'd like to meet her," Forest said with a laugh. Silverstreak rolled her eyes.

"I bet you would."

"And the other one? Ravenwing?" he prompted.

"Like I said, they're completely different. Ravenwing wanted to be a medicine cat, not a warrior, but she gave that up for the only tom she'd ever loved, Eaglestrike. Unlike Frostfeather, the warrior code meant a lot to her; she wouldn't break it, even for love. Frostfeather's mother used to joke that Frostfeather must have taken all of the spirit between them, but she was wrong; Ravenwing has spirit too, just more quietly. She's the one with ideas, kind of our conscience; I get all wrapped up in whatever I'm doing at the time, a little single-mindedly. Frostfeather likes to charge through anything, no matter what it is. Ravenwing, though, helps us see the broader side of things, the different paths and choices. She's a brilliant hunter too; Frostfeather has no patience, but I've seen Ravenwing watch a single bird for hours, studying it so she'll better know how to catch others later. But unlike Frostfeather, who's usually as honest as they come, Ravenwing isn't above lying or hiding the truth, if it's something that might hurt someone…that's why she didn't tell me about Frostfeather, I guess….It must have cost Frostfeather a lot not to tell me too, that's not usually her way." She was quiet for a moment. "We separated when I found out that Frostfeather was with kits…I was so angry, with both of them…they probably went back to the pine forest, I guess. Maybe after all this is through, I'll go find them…." She trailed off, realizing that once Forest was healthy enough to hunt for himself, she'd probably leave him and find her friends. But what then? Would she lead them back here to take the forest, despite what she'd learned from him? Or would she say she hadn't found anything, lie, lead them away so that Forest could leave in peace once more?

_Not peace, _she thought, _not with the corrupt Clan in this forest. Forest himself said it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. It could happen again, easily, with Northstar lurking around…but what can I do? Forest would never come with me to another forest, and there's nothing I can do about Northstar. Even if I told the Clan of his crimes, they probably wouldn't care…maybe they'd even think more of him because of it._

She saw that Forest's gaze was troubled as well, as he stared down at his paws, the color of fresh mud.

"And you?" she asked finally.

"Do I have any friends?" He blinked at her. "No," he answered slowly, "not really. I've been on my own for a long time, ever since the old tom died. Hiding, you know how it is…." He let his words hang, and his face turned into a frown. "It's been…different, having another cat around. Strange." He sounded more serious than usual; the light tone he usually held was absent. "But not…bad." He smiled at her again, and the slight warmth under her fur came back as she found herself returning his smile.

Silence reigned as Forest gently drifted back to sleep with the help of a poppy seed. Silverstreak remained awake, watching the rain and listening to its song.

. . .

Hours later, something seemed to change in Forest. He began to shift fitfully, his expression turned into one of twisted pain. A low moan escaped him. Silverstreak rose to her paws anxiously, hovering over him. His eyes suddenly shot open, and a giggle burst forth, but it was wrong, off-key, as alarming as a jay's call. His eyes stared forward without seeing anything, appearing glassy. Silverstreak touched her tail to his side, only to recoil, feeling the heat under his fur.

Blackmoon had warned her of infection, she remembered, but she hadn't been able to get any marigold as the storm burst forth. And now, Forest was feverish; one of his wounds must have become infected. If she didn't do something, he could very easily die; his body was in no condition to fight off any illness.

Silverstreak cast her gaze towards the entrance. Did she dare go out in the pouring rain, hoping to find marigold? Blackmoon had given her a description of the plant, but could she find it in the pouring rain?

Another moan from Forest convinced her. She hadn't lasted this long taking care of him, only to give up now because of a little rain.

_StarClan, I was glad when you brought this storm to protect us from harm, _she thought, _but it's outlived it's usefulness. Please, cast it aside so that I can save forest._

She received no answer, besides a clap of thunder, but she didn't know how to interpret it.

_I don't have time to lose; every moment he becomes more ill,_ she thought. Steeling herself, she squeezed through the narrow opening, into the rain.

She was immediately drenched, her fur clinging to her body and feeling five pounds heavier. She shook herself, but it did no good, simply sending more water flying. Peering, she struggled to see ahead of her. She didn't want to head towards the hungry river, but she could barely see a tail-length in front of her nose.

_StarClan, keep me safe, guide my paws, _she prayed, and began padding forwards.

Almost immediately, the den was lost to her, hidden by a silver curtain of rain. She thought about returning to the warm safety of the den, but the thought of Forest in pain mad her jaw clench stubbornly. She wasn't going to give up. She wouldn't let him die, not now.

She was soon hopelessly lost; she could barely see anything, and anything she could see was transformed into a gray misty blob by the downpour. She had no idea where she was going, or where she had gone. For all she knew, she was walking in a circle.

A flash of lightning followed by the boom of thunder suddenly illuminated the path in front of her, and her eyes widened as she spotted a splash of gold. She hurried towards it as the light faded, peering down at the bright plants at her feet. Marigold!

_Thank you! _She thought fervently, scooping up as many of the bright petals as she could in her jaws. They tasted slightly sweet in her jaws.

Now, all she had to do was get back to Forest. It would be harder than it sounded. She had no idea where she was, let alone where the den lay.

_If I could find the river, I could follow it downstream, _she thought. _From there, maybe I could find the den…provided that the river hasn't swollen too high…._

She paused, trying to hear the sound of the river over the rain-song. Dimly she could hear a roaring, which she assumed was the river; what else could it be, after all?

She headed for the sound, her ears pricked and her mouth clamped tight around her precious bundle. The roaring sound grew louder and louder in her ears, and yet she could see nothing.

A white mass suddenly appeared in her vision, leaving her wondering in amazement how it had managed to creep up on her. The river was nearly twice as large as it had been before the storm started, a rolling mass of fierce white water. She paled underneath her silver fur; it was monstrous, huge, beyond the power of a hundred badgers. She realized she was trembling, and struggled to control herself; it was a fearsome thing, but she was safe on the bank, where it could not hurt her.

She took a step forward, daring to get closer to the swift water. She narrowed her eyes, struggling to see it better through the rain obscuring her vision, marveling at it. Underneath her paws, the earth felt strange and loose, undermined by the rain and river. All too late, she realized the danger. She tried to take a step backwards, only to feel the earth slide beneath her paws. Before she had time to cry out, she had plunged into the water.

It slammed the breath right out of her, knocking the marigold away without any effort at all. She was flung head over paws like a limp piece of prey, weaker than a nestling bird. Water filled her nose and her mouth as she struggled in vain to reach the precious air that was surely only a mouse-tail above her.

A sudden lurch of the river sent her bobbing to the surface just long enough to grab a breath of air, before she was plunged under once more. She closed her eyes, praying to StarClan that she wouldn't hit any of the boulders that were surely submerged by the wild water.

Green eyes suddenly rose in her mind, as Forest's scent seemed to fill her nostrils. She could practically feel his pelt touching hers, and the shock seemed to jolt away the fog that had begun to cloud her mind. She didn't have time to dwell over the feeling – did it mean they were both close to StarClan? Or was this something else, far more personal? – only to feel the urgency that rose within her. Forest was dying in the den, alone; there was not another cat in the forest who cared for him, save perhaps Blackmoon. Determination gripped Silverstreak; she wasn't about to let Forest die, or at any rate, not alone.

Strength flowed into her limbs, and she felt as if she could wrestle a hundred badgers or more with one paw, perhaps even this river. She felt herself straighten out, still pulled by the river's current. She could almost feel the air above her, and she fought to rise towards it, giving every ounce of her strength. Air filled her lungs as her head broke the surface, and she only had a moment to catch the bank in her gaze before the river pulled her down once more, reclaiming its prize.

_StarClan, give me strength! _She thought as she began moving again, pushing herself towards the bank, feeling the water swirl around her and using her very will to send herself towards the bank. Slowly, mouse-tail by mouse-tail, she began moving towards the bank, using every last scrap of strength. She felt soft earth under her paws and dug in with her claws, pulling herself to firmer ground. Her vision was blurry and every muscle cried in pain as she collapsed on the ground. She thought she saw the gleam of eyes, before blackness overwhelmed her.

. . .

"What do we do with her?" a young-sounding voice asked, sounding anxious. It penetrated Silverstreak's throbbing ears, making her wince. Really, she realized, every part of her was throbbing in pain.

"I don't know," the other voice, a tom, said slowly. "I've never seen her before…she doesn't look hurt."

"Should we take her back to camp?"

"I'm not sure what Lightstar would say…." The tom trailed off.

Slowly, Silverstreak forced herself to open her eyes; it seemed to be the hardest task she had ever faced. For a moment, her vision was blurry, and two splashes of color – dusty gold and soft gray – were all she could see. Slowly, her vision focused, and she realized that two toms were staring at her. The gold one must have been the one to speak first, for he was clearly younger, while the other tom looked as if he could be his mentor.

"I-I-I think she's awake!" the apprentice exclaimed. The gray tom peered at her anxiously. Slowly, Silverstreak realized that the rain had ceased, although the clouds were still a dangerous gray.

"Are you okay?" the gray tom asked, cocking his head to one side and watching her with keen eyes. "Did you actually climb out of the river?"

Silverstreak coughed, and water dribbled from her mouth. She tried to rise to her paws, but only managed to raise one paw before she slumped to the ground; she had used every scrap of energy just to emerge from the river.

The tom and apprentice shared glances. "I'm Rainwind, and this is my apprentice Mousepaw," the one said slowly. "Can you tell us your name?"

_I can't let them go back to camp, speaking of me, _she thought. _Although, they might actually drag me to camp…I'm not sure I could stop them._

"S-Shimmer," she whispered, thinking of the little silver kit, wishing her friends were by her side. The gray tom's gaze hardened.

"Just a loner, huh? Still, you're obviously too weak to move…." He seemed torn between helping her and leaving her. Mousepaw was watching Silverstreak with nervous golden eyes, but they gleamed with sympathy.

"W-we can't just l-leave her here," he forced the words out. "We have to h-h-h-h…." He swallowed.

"Help her," Rainwind finished, and Mousepaw nodded. Rainwind frowned. "I suppose you're right…I'm not sure where the warrior code stands on this, but Lightstar would be angry if we let her get away…not that she's going to be running anywhere. Do we take her to camp?"

With what strength she had left, Silverstreak shook her head, just slightly.

"I d-don't think she w-wants to go," Mousepaw mumbled.

"Well, we're already in trouble for not finding Blackmoon, so we're going to have to," Rainwind meowed. He blinked at Silverstreak. "You haven't happened to see him, have you? Black tom with a white blaze on his chest, blue eyes?"

She swallowed anxiously; did she tell them where Blackmoon was, or not? He might be injured, if he had never made it back to camp. He must still be on the other side of the river, or else he'd have returned home. Did she dare send them over there, where Forest slept? And yet, sending them after Blackmoon would ensure that they didn't drag her back to their camp, and they might even alert him to her presence….

"I saw him," she croaked. "Other side of the river. I was hiding, he was hunting right before the storm. Must not have made it back over."

Mousepaw and Rainwind exchanged glances.

"W-w-we might n-not be able to get over the river," Mousepaw mewed. "It's so b-b-b-…swollen."

"We have to try, especially if Blackmoon is hurt; Rosedapple might just crumble if she loses her only friend," Rainwind pointed out, "which would in turn hurt Lightstar, maybe crippling his leadership."

Both Clan cats glanced at Silverstreak, as if remembering that she was present.

"I d-don't think we should just leave her here," Mousepaw meowed, his fur ruffled slightly around his shoulders, showing discomfort. The tip of Rainwind's tail twitched.

"If Blackmoon's injured, we can't carry them both," he said slowly, "and from looking at her, I can tell she won't come quietly…as soon as we leave looking for Blackmoon, she'll be crawling away." His eyes gentled slightly as he blinked down at her. "We aren't coming back for you; you don't want our help. Be careful, though; as soon as you get your strength back, I'd advise running. Some other cats in our Clan aren't so forgiving."

He gave Mousepaw a slight nod, and the two of them padded away. Silverstreak tilted her head slightly, watching them disappear. She blinked, and as she did so, spots danced behind her eyes like fireflies. Too late, she realized she was fading away again. She tried to struggle to her paws and hold the darkness off, but she stumbled, falling back to the ground in a heap.

. . .

At first, the only sensation that she could feel was a strange pressure on her scruff. Her eyes fluttered open, but at first all she could see was grass and leaves. She was being dragged, it appeared, through the forest.

Who was carrying her? Blackmoon? Had Rainwind and his apprentice returned?

She managed to turn her head slightly and saw a bit of grey, before she felt herself being released. The grass felt soft against her muzzle, and she let out a soft sigh. Slowly, she turned her head and found herself blinking into a silver face, with the brightest green eyes she had ever seen, save perhaps Forest's.

"Who…?" she whispered, feeling the weariness wash over her.

"Hush," the silver she-cat meowed. "I'll be right back with something, okay?" She flicked her tail, and padded away, out of Silverstreak's sight.

She must have passed out between blinks, for when she next opened her eyes, the she-cat had returned, with a mouse in her jaws. She set it down by Silverstreak's muzzle.

"Go on," she said with a smile, "I didn't poison it or anything."

Silverstreak tilted her head to take a few bites, feeling her strength return as the prey's taste flooded her mouth. She licked her whiskers, and then blinked slowly.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Reed…Reedrush, really," the silver tabby smiled wide. "My father sent me to find you."

"Your…father?" Silverstreak asked slowly. The name didn't jog her memories, even slightly.

Reedrush smiled again, and curled her thin tail around her paws. "Let me explain...I guess I'll have to start at the beginning huh?"

**AN: Mousepaw didn't stammer in his first sentence because he's actually very at ease with his mentor. Once Silverstreak, a stranger, was awake he became nervous again. Poor kid.**

**FFFFF so sorry this took so long. I got Sims 3 for the PC and…well…I'm weak. D:**

**I had to get this finished though, so here you go. School starts soon (soon as in TOMORROW) so updates might be slowed down while I settle back into school life and AP work. I'm as excited as I sound. D:**

**Also, this sounds a little unfinished, but the next chapter will be from Reedrush's point of view, showing the path she took to find Silverstreak. It's a dandy. :D**


	16. C h a p t e r 15: Reed

**AN: I'm gonna make this quick and easy: I'll no longer be posting answers to questions and such things in these ANs. They take up a lot of space/characters, and often I think my answers are unsatisfactory. To correct this, I've created a little blog, which can be found on prinpardus(dawt)blogspot(dawt)com; you do NOT need an account to view the blog, but you DO need an account to post comments. Comments won't be important, though; I'd prefer if you left everything in reviews. Alerts (me going away for some reason, slow updates, etc.) will be posted both in new chapters and on the blog, so everyone can see them. I'll be answering questions periodically; with every chapter I publish, I'll answer every question that has been asked since I posted the last chapter. There will be other goodies up there too (character bios, sneak peeks at future stories, etc.). I think this will be pretty cool~**

**In other words, review like you normally do, my darlings, and check the blog daily to see if I've added anything special~**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**15: Reed**

They were gone. The kits that she had welcomed into her nest with open paws and a warm belly had disappeared.

She would have searched for them, but the small, cramped space left no place for any kits to hide. Her green eyes darkened and she laid down, curling her tail against her nose. The Twolegs had given her the kits early the day before; the kits were young and needed milk. She could tell from scenting that she was the only queen in any of the kennels that was anywhere near kitting; she had been the kits best bet. And yet, it was still a quarter of a moon before she would kit, roughly; she had no milk for the kits yet. And in the middle of the night while she slept, the Twolegs had taken the kits back.

She looked down at her round belly, and her ears flattened. She hadn't been receiving the herbs she would have gaining from their leaf-cat if she was still with the Kalan. What if she didn't produce milk? Would the Twolegs steal her kits from her as well, the kits of her own blood? The very thought made her cringe. These kits in her belly were all that was left of the Kalan and the loyal cats that had lived their. It was true that by their standards she was too young to be a mother, but it had been a rash act born of desperation; the Kalan had been collapsing after her father's death, and she had sought solace in her closest friend. The kits had simply been an accident…and yet, not one that she regretted. The kits would never know their father, but they would know of the legacy of their grandfather…if the Twolegs did not snatch her away.

The thought made her jaw clench stubbornly. Being captured by Twolegs had actually been her idea; she knew she couldn't hunt for herself while she was pregnant and alone. She thought she could escape once the kits were bigger, but she hadn't expected the rows of metal dens, the Twolegs roaming the dark paths, the snatching of kits. Now, she wondered if by coming here she had doomed her kits rather than saved them.

She rose to her paws and began pacing as well as she could in the cramped space. She had to get out, but how could she do it? She'd assumed that she'd have moons to make a plan, but she couldn't wait much longer. Soon she'd be too large to even move, let alone escape a Twoleg prison.

She flinched and turned as the scraping of metal warned her that the Twoleg who cared for her was opening the mesh on the entrance of the metal den. She shrank back against the far wall as if the Twoleg could somehow steal the kits from inside of her, as the Twoleg placed new food and water into one corner, before closing the metal grille once more and stomping away with his ungainly Twoleg paws.

Craning her neck to follow the Twoleg, she saw the Twoleg entered and left through the same door. Surely that door led to the outside?

She studied the metal grille closely, and noticed that a latch held the door closed. It made an audible 'click', one that her keen ears picked up while the Twolegs' did not. The latch was on the end of the grille, connecting to the metal side.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember how it looked when the door was opened and closed. The latch could actually hook into place while leaving the door partially open; only when pressure was applied and the click sounded did the door actually close; it was clearly old and had not been repaired for many moons, perhaps even for entire years.

_If I could just block the door while the Twoleg isn't paying attention, making sure it doesn't click, the door would remain slightly open, _she thought. _But how can I keep it open? They'll notice if I put my paw in there, or something…besides, that would hurt!_

Her eyes strayed through the den, looking for something small and inconspicuous. They widened, and she smiled as her green gaze landed on her bowl of crunchy food kernels.

She pawed the bowl, moving out several kernels, storing them behind the dirt-box for safe-keeping. Satisfied, she curled up in her nest,and was asleep within moments.

. . .

The Twoleg returned on schedule, cleaning out her food and water bowls, scooping the dirt out of her dirt-box. She waited tensely against the back wall, watching him with keen eyes. With a sinking heart, she realized that she was too far away to reach the latch before it closed, but she couldn't get closer or the Twoleg would notice. Her ears flattened, as she realized her Clan would fail.

Suddenly, a familiar scent hit her nose, like ash, and she let out a gasp as a cat's wail rang out loudly over the hall. The Twoleg twisted to look for the sound, and she made her move, darting forwards and sliding the kernel between the door and the wall as the Twoleg closed it.

Seeing no cause for the noise, the Twoleg returned his gaze to her, only to blink in surprise when he realized how much closer she had gotten. To distract him from the unclosed latch, she brushed up against the door, careful not to put any weight against it lest it reveal it was still open, letting out a loud purr. The Twoleg smiled and scratched her behind the ear, before moving onto the next cage. She followed him with keen eyes, and then glanced down at the kernel, letting out a sigh of relief as she saw it was holding the door open by a hair.

She waited by the door, fidgeting anxiously as the Twoleg completed his rounds, sure that the kernel would crumble under the pressure. As soon as she heard the large door slam, signaling that the Twoleg was gone, she made her move. She slipped her paw into the narrow crevice, wiggling it around to get a better grip. She leaned against the door with her shoulder, propping it open, and quickly forced her shoulders through the gap in the door. She swallowed, noting the drop, and sprang downwards. Her muscles complained loudly, and the sound of her paws hitting the smooth floor made her freeze, certain that the Twoleg would burst into the room without warning. Nothing happened, and she slunk to the side of the hall, near a cage. She realized that there had not only been cages above the ground, as hers had been, but cages on ground-level as well. Cats stared at her with curious eyes, a mix of colors, genders, sizes, and shapes. Her ears flattened self-consciously, and she began trotting towards the door quickly.

For a moment, the other cats were stunned into silence, staring at her. Then, outrage burned away the silence, as they raised their voices into angry yowls. Cries of "Let us out!" and "Help us!" buffeted her ears, but she refused to look at anyone, knowing she couldn't help them. They'd have to help themselves, as she had.

She stopped in front of the huge door, staring at it with wide eyes. It was much bigger than it had appeared while she was in the cage, and she realized that there was no way for her to open it. Her heart began to pound. Had she made it so far, only to fail?

The cats' voices continued to beat against her ears, and she began to shake.

"I can't do it," she whispered. "I…I can't get out."

"Don't give up," a whisper-soft voice said to her left. She turned, and blinked at the cream queen in the cage in front of her. Against her belly, little kits mewed, and she realized that they were the kits the Twolegs had given and then taken away.

_I didn't scent her because she was so far away, _she realized.

"These are your kits, your scent was on them," the cream queen meowed. "What happened? Who are you?"

"My name is Reed, and they aren't my kits….The Twolegs gave them to me to feed, but I couldn't, so they took them away." Her green eyes softened as she gazed at them. "I'm glad they're safe."

The cream queen nodded. "You should be behind the door. The Twolegs can't see you there," she said mildly.

"They won't be back for hours," Reed said miserably. "Maybe not even until tomorrow."

The cream queen smiled at her. "I wouldn't worry; with all the noise everyone's making, the Twolegs will be back," she pointed out. "They'll know something is wrong. Then, you run." She said it as if it was so simple, and Reed's eyes widened at the idea.

"Do you think?"

The cream queen nodded, and then opened her mouth, letting out a startling yowl that made Reed jump with surprise.

"They'll be here soon," she said with a yawn, and yowled again before smiling at Reed. "Good luck."

Reed was surprised by the cream queen's kindness – she didn't even know her name – but she had no time to speak as the door's handle began to turn. Quickly, she ducked out of sight behind where the door would open. Just as the queen had said, the Twoleg swung the door open wide – barely avoiding crushing the silver she-cat behind it – and stomped into the hall, looking for the cause of the noise. Quickly before he turned around, she scrambled for the door, her tail making it by a whisker before the door slammed behind her.

The bright lights dazzled her for a moment, reflecting off of the white hall and smooth floors. The pure-white hall was long and straight, and she raced down it as quickly as she could. It ended in another door, and she stopped. Behind her, she heard the Twoleg's angry cry as he realized her cage was empty. Her heart was pounding again, as she realized she was trapped.

The door suddenly opened, as another Twoleg, hearing the first's cries, came to help. She stopped and let out a surprised cry, seeing Reed. Ignoring her, the silver cat darted between her thick legs into another white room. This one held many Twolegs and was dotted with windows; through the windows, she could see the grass, the clouds, the sky.

_So close!_ She thought, and raced towards the final door, hearing the Twolegs bawling behind her. They would be on her in an instant. She clawed at the door, thinking she could do nothing, only to let out a yowl of surprise as it gave way to her paws. For a moment, she thought she had pushed it open, but the squeal of a Twoleg kit whose meaty paw was on the handle told her the truth. She quickly dodged around the slobbering creature, feeling real wood under her paws . She leaped from the wooden ledges onto rough gravel, before abandoning the gravel for thick grass. All around the Twoleg prison was grass, grass that she could disappear into. Smirking, she knew the Twolegs would never find her, although they were certainly try.

She weaved through the rippling grass as quickly as she could, although her muscles cried out in pain and the weight of her unborn kits slowed her down somewhat. She finally stopped, panting, and walked a little circle to flatten the grass before flopping onto the ground. She let out a quiet sigh and blinked up at the sky, seeing clouds for the first time in moons. Their presence comforted her, and in moments she was asleep.

_She wasn't quite sure where she was; for a moment, she thought it was the lake of her youth. And yet, she could see that this was not the case. So where was she, then? _

_Mist swirled around her, allowing her glimpses of her surroundings – water lapping against the edge of a lake, swaying grasses, lush forest – and yet she could have sworn that she spotted the lake in one place before it was hidden by the mist, only to be revealed as the grassy field, when the mist parted again, before transforming into a forest. What was going on?_

_The sudden smell of ash hit the room of her mouth, and her eyes widened. She had scented it moments before, when the mysterious yowl had caught the attention of the Twoleg, allowing her time to escape. She had forgotten about the smell in the excitement, but now it gnawed at her. For, it didn't simply smell like ash; it smelled like her father. He had been named Ash, for his distinctive smell. When he had grown to a year of age, he had earned his wartime name, Ashstir, not only for his scent, but for the fact that his pelt looked like a cloud of disturbed ashes. However, her father had been dead for many moons; it was his death that had caused the downfall of the Kalan, only a moon before Reed would have earned her own wartime name._

_Clearly she was dreaming now, with these strange surroundings…so did that mean that her father was here somewhere?_

"_Father?" she whispered, her green eyes searching in vain for his own amber orbs. "Father? Are you hear?"_

"_My daughter," he purred, his voice like birdsong to her ears. He appeared in the mist, padding towards her; in the strange light, his own fur looked like a cloud of mist. His ashy scent swept over her, and she smiled, before frowning._

"_It's only a dream," she said sadly, as he stopped before her. "I've dreamed of you before, and the rest of the Kalan too…until I woke up, then you were gone again."_

"_This is not merely a dream, my child," he said with a slight smile. "This is much more than a simple dream. I'm really here, little Reed."_

_Reed's eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat. How could it be true?_

"_And the others?"_

"_They are here as well, but cannot appear to you, not yet," her father explained. "However, I have been given a task, and so have you. You must help build a Clan."_

"_A Kalan, you mean?" _

_Again, he smiled. "No, my daughter, a Clan. Our group was called the Kalan, but it stems from the word 'Clan'. My mother's mother was Clanborn, and she tried to keep the ways of the Clans alive, but they were diluted through the years. My grandmother fled from her Clan in a time of trouble, after she had kits with someone of another Clan. She came to live by the lake, where we stayed for many moons. You were brought there, Reed, you remember? Perhaps not, you were very young….You were named for the reeds by the lake, you know. You had gone missing one day, and we looked everywhere for you, but I finally found you playing amongst the reeds with no worries, your eyes sparkling as green as their stalks…." He trailed off, his amber eyes glassy._

"_I remember," she said softly. "Living by the lake, I mean. I used to walk there in my dreams…those were the happiest times, weren't they?"_

_He nodded. "Our prey began to falter as the Twolegs encroached on our territories, blazing their Thunderpath through the center of the lake-area. Our Kalan was forced to move from place to place, searching for our home…."_

"_But we never found it, and then you died," she whispered. "And everything fell apart."_

_He nodded gravely. "But now, my daughter, it is time for you to find your new home. Look." He moved to the side, and the mist parted behind him. At first, Reed was staring into the glassy surface of the lake. Then, it suddenly changed, and she found herself blinking into the silver face of a she-cat, with bright blue eyes._

"_Who is she? Must I find her?" _

"_Her identity will be known to you when you find her, but the fate of a new Clan rests in her paws," Ash replied. "This is crucial, my daughter. You must find her, above all else."_

_Reed swallowed nervously. "How can I find her? How will I know?"_

_Ash sighed. "Alas, StarClan cannot directly tell you; there are rules to this sort of thing," he said ruefully. "But find our lake, my daughter, and you will find this silver she-cat. She is closer to you than you know."_

_Reed blinked slowly, and her ears flattened. "It's so far away….I won't be able to travel soon, my stomach will be too big, and then I'll have to wait for the kits to grow."_

_His tail flicked slowly. "That's all I can say." His ear twitched, and he blinked slowly. "You should be moving; if there's one word for Twolegs, it would be persistent. They'll be searching the grass for you."_

_Reed nodded, and then brushed her muzzle against Ash's shoulder. "Will I see you again?"_

_Ash's eyes simply glittered at her. "I'll help you when I can," was all he said, before he slowly melted away into the mist. Reed stared at the place where he had been, only for her eyes to widen as the rest of the dream melted away around her, like the last leaf-bare snow._

Her eyes opened suddenly, and she blinked slowly, seeing her father's face in her mind. His loss suddenly swept over her again, and she trembled.

_It couldn't have been real,_ she thought. _Those things…they just don't happen. And what is a Clan? How could our Kalan have come from something else?_

It must have been a dream, nothing more. One thing that the dream had been right about, though, was the Twolegs; they wouldn't give up. She would need to move.

But where would she go? Perhaps her subconscious had been telling her she missed the lake. That was true, and the Kalan was gone; they hadn't been able to survive there because there had been too many of them, after the Twolegs swept through, but she could support herself and her kits, couldn't she?

Her eyes widened as the scent of ash filled her nose, and the memory of the scent and the cry from the Twoleg prison came rushing back to her.

_What if it was real? _She dared to think. _What if my father is really there…really watching down on my, really protecting me? But, of course, that would mean that I really do have to go to the lake, and find this silver she-cat…._

Her jaw clenched stubbornly, and she took in a deep breath of her father's scent before it faded away._ I can't let him down. But how can I find the lake? Father used to say that all Twoleg paths meet up together, eventually….There was one made of crushed stone near the Twoleg prison. If I follow it, I can find a real Thunderpath, which will take me to the lake._

_I hope._

Her eyes gleamed with this new idea, this new purpose. Silently, she turned and slunk back the way she had come.

. . .

Finding the gravel was no problem, and surprisingly, neither was avoiding the Twolegs. The darkness of night cloaked even her silver pelt from their view, and it was luckily a new moon, oddly enough. She followed the path as quickly as she could, ears swiveling to catch any sound of Twolegs closing in on her in the darkness.

She traveled until dawn's rosy light touched the sky; then she stopped by the path to rest. In the brighter light, she could see the Thunderpath, and it made her heart leap in her chest. If she followed this small Thunderpath, it would surely lead her to the larger one that led into the Twolegplace.

She managed to hunt for herself, narrowly catching a mouse, but it was an embarrassing ordeal with her enormous stomach. All too soon, she knew, it would be impossible for her to hunt, and then dangerous for her to even move without harming the kits. Still, she continued down the Thunderpath resolutely, ignoring the monsters roaring by.

It took her two days to reach where the small Thunderpath became a large one, and by that time she was exhausted. Her kits weighed on her heavily, and her paws were numb from the pain of the sticky Thunderpath rasping against them. She caught nothing for the entire two days; her prey was too fast, and she was too slow.

Water was also hard to come by; some had collected in the ditches by the Thunderpath after the recent rain, but the water was thick in her mouth and rough in her throat.

She managed to walk almost through another day, before she collapsed by the road, weary, sick, and confused. Lights danced before her eyes, as if taunting her. Twoleg monsters roared past, their wind ruffling her fur. Dimly, she realized she was very close to where they sped past, but she found that she lacked even the strength to move out of reach. She had pushed herself to the limit, heedless of her growing kits.

_If I stayed with the Twolegs, at least my kits would be safe, _she thought, feeling a pang of sorrow. _I'm sorry, little ones….I thought I'd have reached a place of safety by now, but I was wrong…._

She let out the softest of sighs, and felt a monster ruffle her fur once more. Her eyes drooped closed as the monster passed, and before she knew it, she was gone.

. . .

A rough jostle brought her back around. The scent of prey filled her nose, and her eyes opened to see a mouse lying beside her muzzle on the ground. She stared at it, her foggy mind wondering if the dead creature had been the one to wake her, before her eyes slid upwards and met the face of the tom standing over her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she nearly fainted away; his muzzle was heavily scarred, and as her eyes traced his silver-gray body, she saw the rest of him was riddled with scares as well. Three deep scars, the result of the same wound being caused, healing, and caused again over and over, shown on his thick neck, while numerous other smaller scars dotted his body. The largest scar she had almost seen, a little over a paw wide and nearly a tail-length long, ran down one side of his body. There was a thin scar over one eye that told her he was lucky to still have it.

He scowled down at her when she didn't move.

"Eat it, idiot," he hissed. His thick fur was ruffled at the shoulders, with irritation. She swallowed nervously, frozen by this menacing-looking cat. He was clearly from a rough place, wherever it was, and it had made him tough; muscles rippled under his pelt, and his broad shoulders spoke of immeasurable strength. He could snap her neck with a flick of his paw, and from his cold eyes she wasn't sure it would even bother him.

"Come on, or I'll eat it myself," he spat down at her, and her eyes darted towards the mouse once more. In the back of her mind, a voice was warning her against trusting this mysterious scarred tom, but as her mouth filled with water, she knew she didn't have the willpower to resist its musky smell. She twisted her head, grabbing the mouse in her jaws. Tearing off a piece of flesh, she gulped it down hungrily. The rest of the mouse soon followed, and she rested her head on the rough ground once more.

The tom was silent as he watched her eat, and when she finished, his eyes were drawn to her stomach. There was something in his blue-green gaze – fear? – that made her pelt prickle uncomfortably.

"Who are you?" she asked, as the only thing breaking the silence between them was the rushing of monsters.

"Who're _you?_" he shot back. "You reek of Twolegs. What, did a sissy kittypet think it would be a good idea to run off while she was _pregnant? _Did she think it would be fun to play by a Thunderpath, knowing she was risking more than just her own life?" His gaze was hard as he stared down at her, and fury blazed within her, despite the prey he had just given her.

"I'm no kittypet," she spat. "I was captured and imprisoned by Twolegs, but I escaped. I'm following this Thunderpath to find a lake, like my father told me." She regretted her words instantly; how could she let so much slip to a complete stranger?

Luckily, he appeared not to be interested in anything she had to say. "How long until the kits are born?"

She blinked. "I don't know….Before the halfmoon, certainly." She winced slightly, and rolled farther on her side, allowing her kits to have room. "Hopefully sooner rather than later."

It appeared that the tom was thinking, as he stared down at her stomach. "You can't hunt for yourself."

"No, not until they're born, and probably not for awhile afterwards," she meowed, and blinked. "Why do you care?"

"I've got a…soft spot for kits," the tom said slowly. There was a warning growl in his voice, as if he was daring her to comment on this. She couldn't help but twitch her whiskers; the idea of this strange, scarred warrior with fragile, innocent kits was laughable. "Where are you headed?"

"The lake, like I said." Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously. "They'll be born before I get there, though, certainly. But I can't stop."

The tom let out a grunt, still thinking. "I'll come with you," he said abruptly. She blinked in surprise.

"You don't even know me."

His fur ruffled around his shoulders again, something she realized was his way of showing discomfort. "I'm headed that way anyway; the Thunderpath branches before it gets to the lake. We'll split when we get there, but I might as well come with you. You'll need someone to hunt for your kits, and then later to carry them until they can walk."

She was taken aback by this kindness. She was still uncertain as to whether or not he could be trusted, but she knew she had no choice; she couldn't hunt for herself, and she and her kits would die.

"Okay," she said finally. "My name is Reed. And yours?"

"Jag," he grunted. "Come on, get up. You've eaten, you should have some energy."

Slightly dubious, she rose to her paws and found that he was right, that she did have some energy left in her body, thanks to the mouse. She smiled at him, and then slowly began padding alongside the Thunderpath.

They were silent together for some time, stopping again once the sun disappeared entirely. They sat together in the darkness, monsters' lights brightening the Thunderpath for a few seconds, before disappearing again. Reed shuddered; what kind of create actually had eyes that lit up? She could see how it could be useful, but at the same time, it seemed freakish.

They settled down to sleep together, although Jag curled up several tail-lengths away from her. She ignored him, for the most part; he didn't seem to want to talk, and neither did she.

Midway through the day, however, her feelings changed; the monotony of the Thunderpath and surrounding territory was beginning to take its toll. Somehow, she was feeling stir-crazy even though she was no longer confined to a Twoleg prison.

"So, Jag," she said hesitantly. "Where're you from?"

"It's not a pretty story for kittypets," was his reply. She bristled.

"I told you, I'm not a kittypet. I went to the Twolegs willingly, but it was for my kits, not for myself."

He glanced over his shoulder at her, blinking at her belly. "That seemed to work well," he remarked sarcastically.

"They wanted me to suckle some kits, but I had no milk. When I woke up, the kits were gone. I…I was afraid they'd take my kits too, once they were older and didn't need me."

Jag's eyes were unreadable. "The Twolegs are cruel creatures."

They were quiet for a moment, until Reed remembered her question. "Well? Where are you from?"

"A place called the Bonedumps," he growled. "Twolegs dump their trash there. Plenty of cats live there, but it's a very dangerous place….Mothers will kill their own kits for a scrap of prey, siblings turn on each other for a bit of power….Everyone there looks like me."

Reed blushed; he must have noticed her staring at his scars. She was surprised to feel ashamed; how must it feel to be him, judged for his scars and hardships?

"But you left, didn't you?" she asked. "Why?"

He shrugged. "I didn't want to live there, fighting every cat I came across just to survive," he said simply. "Most cats are trapped there out of desperation; I dared to dream of a better place, where a cat could hunt to their heart's content, fill their bellies every day…." His eyes were almost glazed as he daydreamed, and Reed smiled.

"You won't find that in Twolegplace, but where I'm going, I might," she said. "You should come with me."

He glanced at her, surprised by the offer. "Maybe I will."

She thought she saw a ghost of a smile on his twisted muzzle, but she wasn't certain and didn't want to press him for anything he didn't want to share.

"And you?" he asked finally. "Wher are you going? You mentioned a lake. What lake?"

"There's a lake near Twolegplace; the lake was there before them, and me and my Kalan were there first," she explained. "My father led us, you see. I'm not actually his daughter…I mean, I feel like I am, and he's raised me as his daughter, but we aren't tied by blood. My mother stumbled onto the lake when I was just a kit; she'd been fleeing from somewhere, carrying me. She had trust issues, I remember that much…there was something wrong with her, something broken inside. But she trusted my father, and they fell in love; it's a sweet story. And then, she discovered she was pregnant with my father's kits, and she was excited, as was he. But on the day he died, she disappeared…I don't know if she's alive or not. After that, the Kalan kind of fell apart, you know? Without Ash, nothing was right…."

"And the kits? Were they…did you…?"

Reed blinked at him, surprised by the awkward shuffle of his paws. Then, her eyes widened. "Oh, yes, I wanted them," she said quickly. "Well, I mean, I wanted…you know. He was an old friend, and we were just trying to cling onto anything….The kits were kind of an accident, but I don't regret them. I'll love them as much as any mother loves her young." Her eyes darkened slightly. "Mother loved me, despite her problems, I know. Otherwise, she wouldn't have brought me with her when she ran…but she had these…I don't know, 'shadows', she called them. I couldn't see them – when I was young, I thought they were spirits, but I now know it was all in her head – and we had to run from them all the time. She didn't have named for them, just 'they' and 'them'. When she found Ash, though, they left her alone; as long as he was there to protect her, she was safe. I guess when he died, they came back for her."

"I'm sorry."

Reed blinked in surprise. Here was this tom, scarred both physically and probably mentally from his life, and he was sorry for _her?_ She had some issues when she was younger, but she'd been fine with her eccentric mother. Sure, it hurt knowing that her mother had left without saying goodbye, but if 'they' had come back, she knew her mother didn't have a choice. And it hurt that her father was dead, but she had seen him in her dreams, and she was certain that when her mother died, she'd be there too, shadows or no shadows. Jag didn't have that luxury; for all she knew, there was no one he loved.

Near sunhigh they stopped for a break, and Jag went off to hunt. For a cat of his size, he was a good hunter, bringing back two mice, although he shared his with her after watching her devour her mouse.

And then, they were moving again.

With every step, her stomach seemed to grow heavier and heavier. She could feel her kits stir inside of her, could feel their need to get out.

_Soon,_ she thought. _Just hold on, my loves. It isn't safe for you here yet….Not yet._

They stopped again at nightfall, and Jag hunted once more, bringing back a finch for himself and a squirrel for her.

"Thanks," Reed mewed, wolfing the squirrel down hungrily. Jag pushed his finch towards her with one large paw, but she shook her head.

"You're the one hunting; I'm just lying around," she said with a slight smile. "Go ahead; we need someone who is strong enough to hunt, right?"

Jag nodded, and he ate the finch quickly, crunching the bones between his massive jaws. She noticed that he actually cut them open and ate what was inside; she had never seen it done before.

_That would have been useful while Blitz and I were together, _she thought ruefully. _We were starving, all the time…._

She sighed, and rested her head on her paws. Jag copied her, and they blinked up at the stars together.

"What was his name?" Jag asked suddenly, glancing at her. "The father's, I mean."

"Blitz," she answered. "He was named for how fast he was. Like lightning….I'm hoping one of the kits will be white like him, so I can name it for him. He was a good friend. Perhaps not lover material, but….you know." She shrugged. "He was a good cat."

"Was?"

"I don't know what happened to him. We were separated." She swallowed. "I'm sure he's fine. He was – is – tough."

Jag nodded slowly. "My brother was the same way, if I remember properly."

She turned towards him curiously. "If?"

"He died when he was a kit. Well, we were both kits then. He was strong, tough, smart. A born trouble-maker, really, but he always managed to get away with it…until he didn't. He died in front of me, slain by a tom. I never knew why; I was looking for him after he disappeared, and I found him in time to see him die. I ran away, and the tom ran after me. I ran to my mother, and ended up dooming her too…the tom was too strong. I managed to hide where he couldn't reach me, and he eventually ran off, thinking it wasn't worth it." His jaw clenched. "He should have never left me alive. I made sure of that."

Reed shivered; with his talk of soft spots for kits and hunting for her, it was easy for her to forget that he came from a brutal place, and was probably disturbed. He wasn't just a cuddly kit in an adult tom's body; he was a real danger, one that she might not be able to trust.

_Wouldn't you do the same thing, if someone killed your family? _A voice needled her.

_Kill anyone? _She wondered. Her first impulse was to say no, but upon further thought…._Perhaps in everyone lurks a killer. It just depends on the cat, when that killer is able to surface._

. . .

They were moving again early the next morning, but something felt wrong. Every pawstep felt different, somehow, uneven. She found herself looking for something every few steps, although she didn't understand why. And then, there was this strange need to stop and lick herself every few steps, feel the kits ripple in her belly before she continued on.

Finally, she could take it no longer.

"Stop," she panted. Jag glanced over his shoulder, and realized with surprise that he was almost ten tail-lengths ahead of her.

"What's wrong?"

"I…I don't know, something just feels wrong. I don't want to walk, I just want to lie down. And this—" She stopped and sat down, reaching down to lick herself again. A moment later, she was speaking again. "I just don't feel right."

His eyes widened, as something seemed to occur to him. "We need to find a den. Quickly."

She blinked. "Why?" She had been looking for a den, she realized, that was what it was.

Jag ignored her, padding down towards the ditch by the Thunderpath. "Hurry."

She began following him, feeling an unfamiliar movement in her stomach. She wasn't sure what it was, but something was indeed wrong.

"Here, I think there's a den here," Jag called, peering near the trunk of a small ash tree. "Come on over here—" He turned as a yowl escaped Reed. Something shifted inside of her – the kits, she was certain – and pain lanced through her.

"In, now!" Jag ordered, pushing her into the den with his shoulder. "L-lie down."

Reed did as he directed, letting out a whimper of pain as the ripples continued. "The kits?"

"T-they're coming," he stammered, and when she blinked up at him, his golden eyes were wild. She was certain she saw fear in them this time. He took a step backwards as she let out another cry, and she saw he was trembling.

"What is it?" she panted.

"My mate," Jag croaked, "she died giving birth to stillborn kits. It was my fault, I struck her, I pushed her too hard." His ears flattened. "There was so much blood, nothing I could do." He was shaking like a leaf.

"It's okay," Reed whispered, trying to console him despite pain rocketing through her again. "I promise, I've got no intention of dying before I see these kits grow up."

He watched her, and she was surprised that he actually seemed comforted by her words. "Don't die."

Reed smiled at him, and dug her claws into the soft earth of the den with a moan. "If the pain doesn't kill me, I'll be fine," she panted. Her mind was racing, trying to think of past kittings. She hadn't seen many, perhaps one, but it had been when she was too little to stay. What was supposed to happen?

Her mouth was suddenly flooded with the scent of ash, and she immediately relaxed. Her father was with her; he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her, that much she was certain of.

She measured time by the flashes of pain; it was nine flashes before Jag's eyes widened.

"I can see it, the first kit," he meowed. "Just push it out, Reed!"

She gritted her teeth – if only it was that easy – and felt herself give a massive heave. There was almost a sucking feeling, as the kit slipped away, but the pain didn't ease. This would be a long kitting, she could feel it in her bones.

She struggled to open her eyes, seeing Jag lick the tiny scrap and nudge it towards her belly. Dimly, she felt a flood of relief as she felt the kit begin to suckle, finding rich milk waiting for it. Her eyes closed again, and for a moment the kit's nibbling comforted her, until the next wave of pain crashed over her and she was lost once more.

She lost count of the flashes before the second kit appeared and followed the first. And then, it was closely followed by a third. She sucked in a deep breath, somehow knowing that it was over, that her three kits were all she would receive.

Or rather, her two kits. Jag looked at her sorrowfully as his licking ceased to bring the third kit to life. She stared down at the three kits, two suckling against her belly, one stiff and unmoving. She sniffed the still kit, as if her touch would wake it, before licking one of its tiny ears tenderly.

"I'll bury it," Jag rose to his paws. "Are you okay?"

Reed nodded, and he picked up the lump in his mouth, padding out of the den. She looked down at her stomach once more, and found herself smiling. Her two tiny kits, perfect. One was the spitting image of her, silver-gray with darker paws and a dark muzzle. The second looked like his father, with fur the color of new-fallen snow.

Jag reentered the den shortly, and then hesitated, as if unsure he could approach the mother and her kits. Reed welcomed him in with a flick of her tail. Slowly, he approached and sat down, looking at her kits. Almost shyly, he reached out with one dark paw and touched the white kit.

"What will you name them?" he asked.

"The Kalan didn't name kits until their eyes opened, to make sure they'd live," she answered, "but I won't let them die. I'll take care of you," she crooned to her kits. She rolled them over, ignoring their mewls of protest. "This little one will be Blitz, after his father," she nuzzled the white kit. "And the she-kit will be…."

"Myrtle," Jag blurted. She blinked, and his ears flattened.

"My mate's name," he said softly. "She, ah, looked a lot like you…and the kit."

Reed cocked her head to the left slightly, and then glanced down at the kit. "Myrtle," she agreed, and Jag's face broke into a wide smile.

. . .

For two days, Reed rested, eating the prey that Jag brought her. However, her father's mission gnawed at her. Finding this silver cat was important, or he'd have never given her the mission; she couldn't let him down.

On the third day, she spoke up.

"We need to move again," she mewed. Jag blinked at her with surprise over the mouse they were sharing.

"The kits are so young," he said dubiously.

"There's only two of them; we can both carry one. We can stop now and then so I can feed them and rest…but this is important. I can't sit here until they can walk for themselves."

Jag blinked slowly, and shrugged his massive shoulders. "You're the mother. Whatever you think, I'll go with, no problem."

Reed swallowed, and rose to her paws. Myrtle and Blitz cried at her feet, thinking she was leaving them. Gently, she scooped up Blitz in her jaws.

"I didn't think you meant _now,_" Jag meowed, but he carefully picked up Myrtle. It was almost comical, seeing the fragile kit in the jaws of a cat who could have crushed her with the slightest pressure.

Jag padded out of the den and Reed followed, as they set off down the Thunderpath together.

They stopped four times to feed the kits before nightfall, where they rested in another den; Jag had to dig it out slightly so she could fit inside with the kits, but it was not a problem for a cat of his strength.

The next day, they were off again, despite the storms gathering overhead.

Jag kept shooting the sky nervous glances, as if sure the rain would pour down on them, but it did not. They settled in another den that night, while the storm hung over them.

It seemed to have been biding its time, for it struck the next day without warning as they were padding beside the Thunderpath. Reed felt a strange sensation on her nose, a gentle tap, and as her nose twitched, a bead of moisture slid down her nose onto Blitz, waking the sleeping kit. He let out an angry yowl, and as if answering him, the storm released its load.

It was not a bad rain, simply the storm letting off steam, but there was nowhere for them to go. They were forced to veer away from the Thunderpath, towards the safety of the trees. The trees kept some of the rain at bay, but soon their leaves crumpled under the weight of the water, sending more of it pouring down. Jag and Reed had no choice but to keep moving, looking in vain for a den in which to cower in. Finally, Jag's keen eyes picked out when was only a space between two tree roots, one curled up slightly. Placing Myrtle on the ground while her mother curled around her, he began digging, scooping up huge pawfuls of earth easily.

Myrtle shivered against Reed's body, and she could feel Blitz trembling as well. Fear gripped her heart, at the thought of anything happening to them.

_I shouldn't have continued in this weather, knowing the storm would eventually break! _She thought, her brow furrowing with anxiety as she tried to shield her kits from the rain. If anything happened to them, she'd never forgive herself.

"Come on!" Jag barked, pushing her roughly into the den, using his thick tail to shield her from the rain. She moved into the back of the den as quickly as she could, curling her tail around her kits as they began suckling almost immediately, eager to drink in her warmth. As they drank, she groomed them, licking the water from their fur. Blitz's shivers eventually subsided as warm milk filled his belly, but despite her licks, Myrtle continued to shudder against her stomach.

Jag was soaking wet, his thick fur sucking up the moisture like moss. He looked like a mess, and Reed couldn't help but lick his disheveled forehead, trying to flatten the fur there. Jag pulled away from her touch, and then his ears flattened with embarrassment. Reed was a little taken aback by the flinch, but a flicker of embarrassment told her she might have overstepped her place. He was helping her because he was a good tom, but they weren't really _friends. _He'd probably leave as soon as she reached the lake; if she could walk this far, she could hunt for herself and leave the kits in a den, if the territory was safe.

.` . .

Myrtle continued to shiver and shudder the next day, and Reed decided that they would not continue. She wrapped around her silver kit, hoping to warm her, only to realize that Myrtle was burning up with fever. Jag was hunting, and when he returned Reed was unable to meet his gaze. She had endangered her own kits' lives, and Myrtle, named after his dead mate, would pay the price for her foolishness.

Jag noticed the worried expression on her face. "What's wrong?"

She didn't answer, but her glance down at Myrtle told the tom everything he needed to know. He swallowed.

"She's very ill?"

"Burning up," Reed whispered, her voice constricted. Her throat seemed to burn. "She's so young, only a few days over…she can't beat a disease."

"I don't know anything about herbs or healing…they were hard to come by in the Bonedumps." Jag was staring at her sorrowfully. "I'm sorry."

"It's my fault." Reed bowed her head, staring down at her helpless daughter. She nuzzled her, but received nothing, not even a mew, in reply. The little kit continued to shiver, but even her shivering was weaker than before as the fever blazed through her tiny body.

Blitz was too young to understand his sister's heat, but it seemed to make him uncomfortable; even when they suckled, he didn't touch her, his white body keeping far away from hers. Myrtle's suckling was weak, even with gentle nudges from Reed prompting her to eat. On the contrast, Blitz was hungry, and Reed was certain that he, at least, was still healthy.

They stayed in the den for the second day as well. Jag left to hunt once more, but perhaps it was also because he knew Myrtle's time was near. Her sides rose up and down shallowly, and a small crust had grown on her nose as she struggled for breath. Her pitiful whimpers were all Reed could hear as she crouched over her daughter, licking her fur, hoping to comfort her; it was all she knew how to do.

Suddenly, Ash's scent filled her nose. Her heart leaped, thinking he was here to heal her daughter. Instead, she heard him murmur in her ear,

"I'll take her home with me, where she'll be safe." As his words registered, Myrtle suddenly let out the quietest of sighs, and her flanks stilled. Disbelievingly, Reed nuzzled her body once, then again, unable to feel her tiny heart beating.

"Myrtle? Myrtle?" she whispered. "Please, darling, don't…." Her voice trailed off, as she knew her daughter was lost, taken by her father to the stars. Feeling as if her heart was being torn in half by her daughter's already cooling body, she let out a shrill wail of pain, as Blitz let out a pathetic whimper at his sister's side.

Jag was at her side in an instant, his eyes wide with concern. He followed her gaze to Myrtle's still body, and his shoulders stooped with sorrow.

"Blitz is all that's left," he meowed, and as he spoke, Reed tucked Blitz against her belly.

"I won't let you die," she whispered to the kit fiercely. "I won't."

If he understood, Blitz showed no sign of it, simply letting out a pathetic mewl.

Jag moved as if to remove Myrtle's body, but Reed let out a hiss, warning him away. She tucked her daughter's body against her stomach, as if the promise of milk might spark life within her kit once more.

Jag watched her, and then dropped the mouse he had been clutching in his jaws. Wordlessly, he padded out of the den, leaving Reed with her only daughter's still body.

**AN: Lololol Kalan, Clan, wartime name, warrior name, leaf-cat, medicine cat, geddit? Also, even with the blog I'll be making snide little notes here still. Ya love 'em, I know. Probably not, actually, but they make me feel good, so meh.**

**Sooo many hints. Yay. :D**

**OMG such a monster chapter. Seriously. I had to just finish it (rather abruptly) or I think I might have diiiied D:**


	17. C h a p t e r 16

**AN: I can't post the link in these notes, for some reason. It's on my profile, though, just copy-and-paste it into your browser, loves.**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**16**

Reedrush's voice seemed to become choked as she described her daughter's death, and Silverstreak felt a pang of sympathy. She brushed her tail against the silver she-cat's flank comfortingly.

"I don't understand, though, how did you get here?" Silverstreak asked.

"We started moving again after we buried Myrtle," she said with a soft sigh. "We found the lake, and I met your friends there; Frostfeather, Ravenwing, Death, Shimmer, and Buck, right?"

Silverstreak frowned – she didn't recognize the last name – but she brushed the thought away, simply relieved that her friends were safe. "And they told you to find me?"

Reedrush nodded. "That night I dreamed of Ash, and he gave me my wartime name, Reedrush. Rush for the sounds the reeds make, you know; he said my voice was the same way."

Silverstreak nodded slowly; 'rush' did capture the strange, melodious noise that the reeds made with the slightest breeze. It wasn't a warrior name, but she liked it, strange as it was.

"This way, they're over here, I smell 'em!" a voice called, shattering any calmness Silverstreak had felt. Both she-cats' heads whipped around, listening to the crashing in the brush. Silverstreak glanced at Reedrush, but she appeared to be just as puzzled and frightened by the noises.

"I could use a she-cat," another voice grunted, a tom. "We've been walking our paws off for Slaughter, eh?"

"He'll reward us when we return," a third rasped, "I'm sure o' that."

The other two toms grunted in agreement. Silverstreak stiffened, and Reedrush rose to her paws.

"I can't run, I don't have the energy," Silverstreak whispered. "Get away while you can, I'll fight them off. Don't worry."

Reedrush's green eyes narrowed. "You can't fight them yourself," she replied. "I'm not going to leave you, not Myrtle…." She trailed off, and her eyes darkened with sorrow.

Bright eyes gleamed in the fading light, and the three toms appeared, shouldering their way through the thick foliage. Confidence gleamed in their eyes as they stared at the two she-cats. A cruel leer twisted one's muzzle.

"Both silver," he said with a purr. "Just to your taste, eh Snake?" One tom, a ginger, snickered. The other must have been Snake, for his jaw clenched with anger. With a feeling of horror, Silverstreak realized he was missing one of his green eyes; it seemed to have been brutally clawed out.

"He's probably had his fill of them, after Rainsplash clawed his eye out," the ginger tom snickered. "Isn't that right, Snake?"

"Shut up," Snake hissed. "She'd have taken your eye out too, you lout. I could beat you myself with three paws broken."

"And both eyes missing?" the first tom laughed. The ginger tom stiffened, but the first time – apparently the leader – simply flicked his tail. "Calm yourself, Bristle. Always rising to the challenge like a fool…Snake, if you don't want one, that's fine, we'll have them to ourselves." His face curled into a leer, and Silverstreak felt sickened. Her eyes met Snake's single eye, but unlike the other two toms, his didn't betray the feral hunger theirs bore. Snake held her gaze for a moment, before dropping away.

"Don't mess with them," he said, shuffling his paws almost awkwardly. "That one looks like she's hurt."

"Did Rainsplash take your tom-hood when she got your eye?" Bristle smirked. Snake stiffened.

"No, they just…aren't as much fun when they're tired like that," he said lamely, his gaze flicking to Reedrush again. "Come on, Venom, they aren't worth our time. They aren't with the Clan, obviously, and we need to study them like Slaughter ordered."

"Slaughter," Venom flicked his tail dismissively. "He isn't watching us, you superstitious idiot. StarClan isn't there to peek down at us and shake their tails when we've misbehaved." He and Bristle burst into loud laughter.

"Run, Reedrush," Silverstreak whispered. "For your kit's sake, if not for your own."

Venom's eyes gleamed. "Kits, huh? Is that so, sweets? Did the tom run off, pour thing? Are you all alone now? I'm sure we can fix that."

Reedrush tensed, and then seemed to relax as the wind changed. A strange scent blew into Silverstreak's nose, one that she didn't recognize.

"Actually, I'm not alone," Reedrush mewed, with almost a purr in her voice.

A flash of gray suddenly plowed into Venom, bowling him over. Silverstreak watched in frozen amazement as blood spurted from Venom's throat. Without even pausing, the gray tom turned on Bristle, who only had time to unsheathe his claws, before he too was lying on the ground with his blood gathering around him. The gray cat turned on Snake as well, raising his claws to give the fatal blow. Snake's muscles rippled as he moved to strike the gray cat's belly, even though it would be useless; he might injure the gray tom, but his claws would still strike true, burying themselves in Snake's throat.

"Wait!" Silverstreak yowled. The gray tom hesitated, and Snake froze, his one green eye darting from her towards the gray tom, and back.

"This one wasn't going to hurt us," Silverstreak said, her voice shaking from the gray tom's brutality and pure strength. She would have never been able to take out both Venom and Bristle so quickly, even if she hadn't been exhausted of all her strength. "Don't kill him."

The tom hesitated, and he glanced at Reedrush. She nodded, and the tom retracted his claws, although he remained firmly on top of Snake.

"I've spared your life," Silverstreak mewed, rising to her paws shakily. "Now, who is this Slaughter? Why is he scouting this Clan?"

"He used to be Crowtalon," Snake blurted, obviously still fearing for his life. "He leads TalonClan, he's trying to expand our territory. He sent out scouts in every direction but north, to look for land and possible allies or enemies."

_Crowtalon was Northstar's deputy, _she thought. _And now…Slaughter? I never took much notice of Crowtalon, apart from those eyes of his…it seems he was more sinister than I thought. Did he overthrow Northstar?_

"Now, listen to me," Silverstreak growled. "We're going to let you go, but you're going to get out of here, understand? You're not going back to Slaughter, you're not going to be sniffing around the Clan here, and you're not going to be bothering any she-cats anytime soon. Got it?"

Snake nodded quickly, and with a confirming nod from Reedrush, the gray tom allowed Snake to get up. He bolted immediately, disappearing into the brush. Silverstreak turned her attention to the gray tom, wondering who he was for a moment – until he turned, exposing a thick neck marked by three scars, and a scar that, as Reedrush had said, was a paw wide and a tail-length long running down his side.

"Jag?" she wondered aloud, and turned back to Reedrush. "I thought he would have left; you could take care of Blitz by yourself, couldn't you?"

"I could have…but he decided to stay with me instead," Reedrush answered, sending a smile in Jag's direction. "What are you doing here, though? When I left, you were hunting."

"I came back to find Blitz alone and crying for you," Jag rumbled. His voice was deep, but oddly soft. "I was worried, so I went looking for you. Good thing I did."

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I went to the entrance for a breath of fresh-air, and I smelled…you know. I followed the smell and found her." She flicked her tail to Silverstreak. "She's the one I was sent to find."

Jag's gaze met Silverstreak's, and they were filled with new respect. "I see. Well, you need to get back to Blitz and feed him; he's ravenous. If he could have walked, he would have followed you."

"I dread that day," Reedrush said with a slight laugh. There was an odd easiness between the graceful sliver she-cat and the looming gray tom, Silverstreak realized. Somehow, despite their differences, they were comfortable with each other, after all they had been through together.

"We'll never know if he's really gone," Jag pointed out to Silverstreak. "He could be anywhere in all this, just lurking. This forest gives me the creeps."

The word jogged Silverstreak's memories, and her eyes suddenly widened. "Forest!" she gasped, and swayed on her paws. How could she have forgotten him, sick and alone?

"Please, you have to help!" She turned to Reedrush. "My friend is sick, on the other side of the river. I was trying to find marigold for him, but I lost my way during the storm, and the river washed me away. He's very ill and very weak. I can't make it over the river, but could either of you…?" Her tail was lashing in agitation.

"Calm down," Reedrush mewed soothingly. "I have to get back to Blitz, and you should come with me. Jag, can you find this tom? Do you know what marigold is?"

Jag looked uncertain, and Silverstreak quickly said, "It's a golden-orange flower. You just get the petals and chew them up…usually they're applied to wounds, but since he's already sick, you might want to feed them to him too? You're not a Clan cat, he'll trust you."

Jag dipped his head to her. "I'll do what I can," he meowed, before padding away. Silverstreak's gaze followed him, and then dropped to the bodies of the TalonClan toms.

"What can we do with them?" she wondered. "The Clan cats won't know what's going on."

"There's no time to bury them; Blitz needs me." Reedrush's eyes were hard. "I can't let my kits down again."

Silverstreak glanced at the bodies once more, and then nodded. "We should get to your den. I might need a little support, but I think I can walk."

Reedrush nodded, allowing Silverstreak to lean on her, before leading her away into the forest. IT was tiring to walk, and they had to stop and rest several times. The den was simply a tiny thing, carved out between two tree roots. Reedrush disappeared inside, and Silverstreak leaned against one of the roots, unsure if she wanted to disturb the two of them; she could hear Reedrush cooing to her tiny son, and him making little mewls back. This was a precious moment, one that she knew Reedrush would treasure. She didn't want to ruin it.

Reedrush peeked her head out of the den, smiling warmly at Silverstreak.

"Come on in," she purred, disappearing again. Slowly, Silverstreak limped into the den. It was larger on the inside than it had appeared, and she settled herself against the wall, making sure to give Reedrush and Blitz plenty of room.

Her mind buzzed with thoughts of Forest. She saw his green eyes, his crooked smile, heard his easy-going voice, and felt a pang.

_StarClan, let him get better, _she prayed. _He doesn't deserve to die for my mistake._

"When will Jag be back, do you think?" she asked aloud. Reedrush blinked at her sympathetically.

"I don't know; it's late, he'll probably stay with that Forest cat," she answered. "He'll come back tomorrow morning, I expect, and let us know what's happening." She rested her head on her dark silver paws. "Who is this cat you're taking care of?"

Silverstreak sighed. "It's a long story," she confessed. Reedrush let out a purr.

"We've got nothing but time."

. . .

Birdsong woke her from her slumber. She blinked slowly, staring at the bright sunlight streaming in through the den entrance. When had she fallen asleep? She had been telling Reedrush of how she left her friends, she remembered that part…she had gotten to the part where she had met Blackmoon, and convinced him to help Forest….

The thought of Forest made her raise herself, and she looked towards the entrance again, hoping to see Jag's large shoulders filling it. There was nothing, simply the sweet call of the birds, letting each other know there was no danger.

_So he isn't close, then, _she thought. _But that's good, right? If Forest was dead…well, there'd be no reason to stay behind and take care of a dead cat, right? There'd be nothing stopping him from coming back…._

She heard Reedrush let out a sleepy yawn, and turned, seeing her bright green eyes were awake and watchful. Her son still slumbered, nuzzled against her belly.

"Good morning," Reedrush mewed, with another yawn. Silverstreak gave her a nod, before turning again towards the den.

"Relax," Reedrush said softly. "Jag will be here soon, I'm certain. He'll bring good news."

Silverstreak simply nodded again, and turned back to Reedrush. "Did your father visit you in your dreams?" she asked.

Reedrush shook her head. "No. I suppose my mission isn't over then; he would have told me if it was. Saving you wasn't it." She cocked her head to one side. "I suppose I'm supposed to join your Clan."

At this, Silverstreak smiled. "You're very loyal, and brave," she meowed. "Our new Clan would be lucky to have you, and your son." Her gaze fell to the little white kit, and she frowned. "He wouldn't keep his father's name, though."

Reedrush blinked. "What would it become?"

"Something for his white fur…Blizzardkit, maybe? It almost sounds the same."

Reedrush smiled, and licked Blitz's ear. "Blizzardkit sounds lovely," she purred. Blitz stirred, but did not wake.

Reedrush's purrs suddenly seemed loud to Silverstreak's ears. She wondered why for a moment, before realizing the birds had fallen silent; there was a hunter in their midst.

_Jag? _She thought, but the face that appeared in the den was not dark gray, but black. Shining blue eyes twinkled down at her.

"Blackmoon!" she exclaimed, rising to her paws to meet him. Blackmoon smiled, and moved, allowing her to shoulder her way out of the den. Jag was there as well, next to the black warrior.

"I met him coming back," Jag explained. "He said he was looking for Forest."

Silverstreak nodded. "Blackmoon helped me take care of Forest." She turned to him. "I thought you might have gotten hurt in the storm!"

Blackmoon shook his head. "I found a den to huddle in, and Mousepaw and Rainwind found me," he said. "I can't stay for long, though; one of my dear friends had her kits during the storm. She's okay, but I'd like to be with her." He flushed slightly, and Silverstreak knew this 'dear friend' was more than what his words told her.

"And Forest? How is he?" Silverstreak asked anxiously. Blackmoon frowned.

"I'm worried," he admitted. "Jag led me back to the den and let me take a look at him. Marigold can prevent infection, but it isn't good at fighting it; we'll need different herbs for that. I can tell you what to look for…we just have to hope he can beat the infection."

Silverstreak's head bowed; it was exactly what she didn't want to hear. _Please, please, let him get better, _she prayed.

"I'll do whatever it takes to help him get better." Her jaw clenched stubbornly. "What plants should I look for?"

"I showed Jag a few, but there are more that might also help…I can't stay for long, however, or the Clan will miss me. My friend – Rosedapple – is very nervous about being left alone, and after what happened to her a few days ago…I'd like to be with her at all times."

"Wait," she said, as something dawned on her. "This queen, Rosedapple? Is she the same one that Northstar saved?" He nodded, and her heart sank. Clearly, Blackmoon would only think the best of Northstar; he obviously loved this Rosedapple, and since Northstar had saved her, Blackmoon would owe the cold tom greatly. If Silverstreak told him what Northstar was capable of, Blackmoon might think she was lying…and if she was lying about that, what else might she be lying about?

"When can I see him?" she asked.

"Perhaps later today," Jag rumbled. "You need another meal to get your strength fully back before attempting to cross the river."

Silverstreak nodded. "I want to be with Forest again as soon as possible."

The tip of Blackmoon's tail twitched. "I'm sorry, Silverstreak, but I must leave you. My excuse for leaving camp was that I was catching Rosedapple the most delicious mouse I could find; I need to go find this mouse soon, or it will look suspicious, even to her." He dipped his head to Silverstreak, before disappearing into the forest.

"Well?" Reedrush's head popped out of the den. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Jag is going to show me some plants we can use to help Forest," Silverstreak replied. "I think we should leave now; we can catch something on the way, and we can cross the river after that."

Reedrush's ears pricked. "You're leaving me here?"

"You've got Blitz to look after," Jag said gently. "He's your only kit now; he deserves all of your attention."

Reedrush blinked, and then laughed quietly. "I'm hopeless with herbs anyway, I guess. Have fun." With that, she ducked back into the den, crooning to Blitz in a loving tone.

"She's a good mother," Silverstreak mewed quietly. Jag smiled, and his eyes held a gentle glow.

"She is."

. . .

"Blackmoon said this herb is very important," he rumbled, touching a green-leaved plant. "If we can find what wound is infected, the roots will help the infection go away. The leaves will help uninfected wounds heal much faster."

"Very important," Silverstreak echoed. "I think I saw some of these near where Forest was; getting them over the river will be too hard for us."

Jag nodded slowly. "Blackmoon showed me some of them, yes. Now these," he tilted his head up, looking at the swaying leaves above them, "can stop the infection too."

"Oak leaves? Really?" She blinked in surprise. It seemed strange that healing plants had been all around her, even above her head, without her ever knowing it.

"He said those would be the two herbs easiest for us to use," Jag meowed. His left ear was flicking, as if a sound was bothering him. Silverstreak gave him a questioning blink, and he turned his head, staring at something over his shoulder. "Be right back," he grunted, before slinking away.

He returned moments later with a mouse in his jaws. He dropped it at her paws. "I was trying to tell you the herbs before catching it; the noise was driving me crazy. Eat up; I want to see if the water has gone down enough for you to get over yet."

Silverstreak opened her mouth to tell Jag he should share the prey, but the steely glint in his eyes told her he wasn't going to, even if she asked. Obediently, she took a bite, chewing slowly before devouring the rest of the mouse quickly. She felt the tiny creature's strength flow into her limbs, and she rose to her paws, brimming with energy.

"Let's go," she meowed, springing to her paws. "I want to see Forest."

Jag rose to his paws as well, flicking his tail. "Follow me, please."

. . .

She stared into the swift-flowing water, and swallowed. "We're crossing on…that?"

Jag nodded. "It seemed it was uprooted during the storm – you can see the earth there on the roots, still fresh – and swept down here. Luckily it managed to lodge itself between those two stones, allowing us safe passage."

Silverstreak's ears flattened. "That doesn't look safe to me…why did we have to wait for me to get stronger, if we're just going to walk over?"

Jag shifted his weight. "Well…it may not be completely safe, you understand. And you might need your strength to swim, if…." He trailed off, but Silverstreak shuddered, remembering the powerful water tossing her around as if she was nothing but a piece of prey. She never wanted to feel that small, that powerless, ever again.

"I'll go first, in case anything does happen; it seemed sturdy enough, but I'll just make sure…." Silverstreak nodded, and Jag approached the log. He rested one large paw firmly on the log, and gave the log a shove. It didn't move. Satisfied, he sprang onto it, paws wide in case his weight caused any sort of shift. The log seemed to be securely in between the two rocks, though, and Jag continued halfway down, pausing to nod for Silverstreak to follow.

She approached with caution, shoving at the log as Jag had done. It didn't move, and she sprang onto it. The log was slick from the spray of the river, and she padded down its length cautiously, letting out a sigh of relief as her paws hit solid ground again.

She recognized where they were, and before Jag could protest, she broke into a run, a strange desire burning in her veins. There, underneath the old oak tree, Forest's den lay.

_All along, those oak leaves could have saved him, _Silverstreak realized. _If only I had known!_

She burst into the den, expecting Forest's eyes to be twinkling at her, but they were closed. For a moment, she feared the worst, before seeing his sides rising up and down slowly. The stench of sickness battered her nose, but she ignored it. She stared at him for a moment, half expecting for him to wake to her presence, before leaving the den. Jag had caught up, and he blinked at her with concern.

"Is he okay?"

"Why isn't he awake?" Silverstreak asked. "When I first noticed he was sick, he was asleep…but he was awake before then, and it couldn't have been instantaneous."

"His body is using all of its power to fight the infection," Jag rumbled. "When I found him, he did wake, but he was confused. He thought I was someone else, and he started trembling as if he feared for his life. He was apologizing for something – for not being able to save me from something. I don't think my scars helped, either." Jag's ears flattened, and Silverstreak felt a pang of sympathy; Jag hadn't asked for this, being disfigured and frightening because of the old wounds covering his body. "He collapsed, then; worn out, I suppose."

Silverstreak turned back into the den, watching Forest sleep. She felt another pang, of worry. He looked so fragile, so helpless, lying there oblivious to the world.

She clenched her jaw stubbornly. _He isn't going to die, _she swore. _StarClan, or whoever takes care of cats like him…I'm not going to let you take him from me, understand! He will not die!_

She turned towards Jag. "I can't climb well, I'm still weak; you'll have to gather the oak leaves. I'm going to collect moss for water; he'll be thirsty. Then you can show me where the burdock is, and we'll gather some roots for him."

Jag nodded in agreement, and without another glance at Forest, Silverstreak padded away.

The moss was easy to find, right where she remembered it. Getting the water was the more frightening part; the memory of the earth crumbling beneath her, giving her to the cruel water, made her tremble. Still, Forest needed this water, so she was forced to steel her nerves and dip the moss into the water until it was saturated with the cold liquid. Trying to resist the urge to suck the moss dry, she carried it back.

Jag had gathered a clump of leaves when she returned, although none of them had been applied to Forest's wounds yet.

"Blackmoon said they worked best if they were dried, but I don't know what that means," Jag explained.

"Until the moisture inside them is gone, I suppose," she guessed. "Just leave them out in the sunlight for awhile. We can use burdock for now, after I give him this…hold his mouth open, please."

Jag stared at Forest's mouth dubiously, before attempting to prop it open with one paw. His large paws made it difficult, but Silverstreak managed to drip the bulk of the water from the moss into his open mouth. Jag closed it, and after staring at Forest a minute, Silverstreak brushed her tail over his throat, trying to get him to swallow. His nose twitched, as if it tickled, but she saw him swallow as well.

She followed Jag out of the den and into the forest. He led her to the clump of burdock – as he had said, it was close to camp – and she studied it a moment, committing both the appearance and location of the plant to memory. She watched as Jag demonstrated the harvesting of the plant – digging up the roots, making sure to gather only a small portion of the total roots, before also grabbing all leaves attached to said roots.

She grabbed half of the bundle, helping him carry them back. In the den, she cleaned out the old herbs – save for the poppy seeds, which would keep for a long time, as was their nature – and carefully separated the burdock leaves from the rest of the plant. These she chewed and dribbled the juice over his wounds, before chewing up the roots and searching for the infected would. Her nose led her to it; a deceptively small one near his tail. She applied the roots, finally leaning back and letting out a quiet sigh.

"That's all we can do, I guess," she said miserably. Jag rested his tail on her shoulder.

"I'm sure he'll pull through; he can't die, not after everything you've tried to do for him," he said softly, before glancing out of the entrance. Silverstreak blinked in surprise, realizing that the sky was streaked with orange and pink; the sun was already setting.

"I have to get back to Reedrush; are you coming?"

She shook her head. "I'll stay here, with him."

Jag dipped his head to her. "I'll return tomorrow morning. Do you want me to hunt before I leave?"

Silverstreak shook her head again. "I'm sure I can manage now. I can't act like a kit over a little dousing." She smiled at him. "Thank you for your help."

He brushed away her thanks with a flick of his tail, before padding away, leaving Silverstreak and Forest alone. She turned to Forest, her blue eyes anxious as she stared at him.

She laid down next to him, pressing her silver pelt against his.

"Get better," she whispered into his ear, before resting her head on her paws and closing her eyes.

No cats walked in her dreams that night. She was alone.

**AN: SO SORRY this took so long, you guys. So so sorry. But, as I found out, my rate of updating is directly proportional to the reviews I receive; last chapter only gave me six, and I found this discouraging…that and a terrible case of writer's block, and well…this long wait was the result. D:**

**Anyway, new stuff up on the blog again, with this chapter being uploaded. Remember, the link is on my profile, you have to c&p it into your browser~**


	18. C h a p t e r 17: Lion & Belladonna

**AN: To give you guys an idea of how long this story will be: Silverstreak is currently on Day 20 of the story. Lion is waiting for the scouts to return before he will even considering attacking…and that won't be until Day 71 (They left on Day 11, 11+60 (two moons) equals 71). Jesus.**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**17: Lion & Belladonna**

"Lion…I'm not comfortable with this," the ginger tom rumbled. Lion met his gaze calmly.

"Really, Brightfire? And why might that be?"

The ginger tom, his deputy, shifted his weight slightly. "Attacking Silverstreak…it just isn't right. I could never see Fadedstar as being responsible for anyone's deaths, or using anyone on purpose. He was a good leader for ForestClan; ShellClan and ForestClan didn't often clash under his rule. He wasn't one who wanted to waste lives."

Lion's eyes narrowed. "I see, Brightfire. Now, tell me, did Fadedstar use _your _family as bait for FrozenClan warriors? Did he give you no other choice but to fight for him?"

"No, but…." Brightfire trailed off, and sighed. "I thought we were going to free everyone, Lion. I knew your quest was for vengeance for your family, and you knew mine was to save the Clans from Slaughter's clutches. The four Clans were never meant to be united this way."

"Once we've killed Silverstreak and her friends, the four Clans can become themselves again, I don't care," Lion said icily. "I don't care what happens to the Clans once I'm finished with them. But we will kill them, no matter what. And I'll kill any cat that stands in my way."

Brightfire's jaw clenched, and Lion sighed.

"I respect you, Brightfire. I understand how your beliefs clash with mine. You won't have to kill anyone if you don't want to get your paws dirty. You can even lead ShellClan once the Clans split themselves up again. I'm not trying to destroy TalonClan; I have no quarrel with them or you. At the most, Silverstreak will have amassed a pawful of cats that will be swiftly dealt with. We'll lose few or none of our own cats for this simple matter…and I can finally be at peace, knowing my family was avenged."

"But they _won't _be," Brightfire growled. "Killing Fadedstar's daughter will do nothing; she'll just join him in StarClan. I know you don't believe that way…but I do. And if StarClan doesn't exist, how will killing Silverstreak hurt Fadedstar?"

Lion's lip curled, exposing his sharp fangs. "I couldn't expect you to understand this."

"I do understand." Brightfire's gaze was hard. "FrozenClan killed my parents; they would have killed my sister if she hadn't been pregnant, and they would have killed me if I hadn't agreed to join them. But I don't want to kill all of FrozenClan, only those responsible, Northstar and Slaughter. We've done that."

"Northstar is still out there, is he not?" Lion demanded. "For all we know, Silverstreak and Northstar might even be together; Northstar wouldn't have much of a choice, being alone. I'd guess the two of them are planning on trying to win their power back, aligning with them only out of necessity. If we find Silverstreak, we might find Northstar, and you can have your revenge!"

"He is friendless and alone, powerless, unable to hurt anyone," Brightfire spat. "That is all the revenge I really need. Besides, I don't want to hurt Fros—" He cut himself off, and his ears flattened.

"Who?"

"Frostfeather. She's a ForestClan warrior…one of Silverstreak's friends." His flame-colored tail lashed with agitation. "We kind of had a…thing. It was only during one Gathering, it was never anything _real, _but I don't want to hurt her, or her friends."

Lion bared his fangs. "If it wasn't for me, you'd be under Slaughter's paws and he would still eventually go after Silverstreak anyway. You are just going to have to live with _my _decision. I lead TalonClan now, not you!" He punctuated his speech with a snarl. Then, his fur suddenly flattened, and he let out a sigh, suddenly feeling weary. "I didn't want any of this, once," he said tiredly. "I just wanted to live with my family in peace, to grow old with Clover, to watch my kits grow up….But then I watched my mate die after having a miscarriage, leaving me alone. Brightfire, you saved my life on the battlefield. I can't forget that. But if you won't help me, if you won't be my loyal deputy, I can't let you stay." He stared into Brightfire's amber eyes. "I won't kill you, because you saved my life. But if you're not going to help me, then get out. Chase after Silverstreak, warn her, I don't care. It won't make a difference. I need complete loyalty, Brightfire."

Brightfire met his gaze firmly. "I'm sorry, Lion," he growled, "but I can't give you that. It seems I helped overthrow a tyrant, just to create another." He closed his eyes. "Rainsplash had a miscarriage, as you know. There's nothing holding us here any longer. We're leaving you now." He sighed. "Even if you let us become four Clans again…we're too far gone. We're nothing but cowards and traitors now, and there are too few of us left to ever be four Clans again….The four Clans I once knew are dead and gone. Maybe with Silverstreak…we can make something new." He rose to his paws. "I'm sorry, Lion, but I suppose the next time we see each other, it will be on the battlefield. Goodbye, my friend." He dipped his head, and then padded out of the den silently.

Lion watched him go, his pelt crackling with anger, feeling as if a roaring flame had been kindled inside of him. _Even Brightfire has turned his back on me, in my time of need, _Lion thought bitterly. His eyes narrowed. _I never needed him anyway. Now, with Brightfire gone, there is nothing stopping me from wiping out all of BirchClan…even those who are now in TalonClan. They might have a crisis of loyalty when it comes to fighting Silverstreak; they might stand in my way. I'll figure out who is from BirchClan, and end them…then my fighting force will be unified. We will crush Silverstreak, and I will have my revenge._

He bared his fangs fiercely, imagining the silver she-cat trembling before him, pleading for her life. It gave him what was almost a thrill, soothing the flame burning within him. He padded out of his den, and turned his eyes towards the starry sky, twinkling at him from just outside the cave.

"Just you wait," he hissed. "I'm coming to find you. And when I do, your blood will be on my claws!" 

. . .

"You are Feather, correct?" he meowed. The little silver tabby glanced at him nervously, and gave him a quick nod before returning her gaze to her herbs. He studied her for a moment; like the other three healers of TalonClan, she was nervous, timid, always glancing around as if a monster might come out of the shadows and strike without warning. It made sense, considering how the previous leader had dealt with his medicine cat. But Lion didn't intend to kill her; not yet, at least.

"You remember your Clanmates, don't you?" he asked, sitting beside her. She glanced at him, and nodded again. "I know you were young when your Clan fell," he continued, "but you remember their faces, don't you? The faces of your Clanmates? You know the cats of TalonClan that fled BirchClan for safety." He received another nod, and smiled. "Feather, it is important that I know who here is of BirchClan, and who is not. Can you point them out to me?"

Feather didn't move for a moment. Then, she slowly rose to her paws and padded out of the den, without looking at him. She surveyed the camp, studying the movements of the cats as they shared tongues with one another, returned from hunting, and went out on patrols. Finally, she began to point with her white-tipped tail, pointing out each BirchClan cat in turn. When she finished, she turned to him, her eyes wide.

"Thank you," Lion growled, before padding away. The BirchClan faces flickered in his mind, as he committed them to memory. Within the moon, they would all suffer accidents of some kind; he would make sure of it.

He glanced over his shoulder before entering his den once more. Feather's bright eyes were still staring at him. They locked gazes for a split second, before she rose to her paws and silently slunk away. Somewhat puzzled, Lion turned away, curling up in the fresh moss of his nest. He rested his broad head on his golden paws. Slowly, his amber eyes closed.

. . .

"Sir?" a high-pitched voice disturbed his slumber. He cracked his eyes open slowly, blinking at the thin black she-cat in the entrance. "Sir—"

"If this is about Brightfire and Rainsplash disappearing, I already know," Lion interrupted, rising to his paws. "I allowed him to leave."

The she-cat blinked. "Er, no, sir," she mewed. "It's about a kit. We found him in the forest. He seems to be in perfect health, but the medicine cats wanted you to know about him before they started treating him, in case you had other plans or something." Her amber eyes were wide with nervousness.

"Take me to the kit, then," Lion ordered. "I don't want a useless kit eating our prey and dying of sickness, or something, not with the battle in a few moons."

She nodded quickly and flicked her thin tail. Lion followed her to the medicine den. The four medicine cats were huddled around a tiny white bundle of fur. They moved to allow Lion to study the kit. He simply stared down at it for a moment, struck by how small it looked compared to one of his large golden paws. Then, the kit let out a tiny mewl and its eyes open, penetrating him with an icy gaze.

He gazed down at the kit for a moment, transfixed. An image suddenly flashed in his mind: Clover, lying in a pool of her own blood, dead kits scattered around her. None of them had ever had a chance of life.

Or had they?

He tried to focus, tried to think. Hadn't there been a white kit amongst the litter? Yes, he was certain of it. And if there was a white kit in the litter…could it be that one of the kits had survived? Could this little kit sitting before him be one of Clover's?

The part of his mind that was still clinging onto reality argued against it – this kit was too old to be Clover's, and blue eyes just didn't make sense – but he pushed that part of himself away, clinging onto the feeble hope that there was still some remnant of his family. Ignoring the stares of the medicine cats, he pushed the kit toward him, hiding it behind his powerful paws. He gazed down at the little face, and smiled.

"He is my son."

. . .

He curled around the tiny kit, keeping him warm. Against the healers' orders, he had taken the kit back to his den with him. He stared down at the sleeping bundle of fur, trying to see Clover within him. His mind felt strange, blurred almost; part of him knew that claiming this kit was his didn't make any sense, it was impossible, but the majority was simply desperate for anything to cling onto, anything that he could at least pretend was part of himself. Perhaps he had found his savior, in this little kit.

The kit stirred, and Lion uncurled slightly. Cold blue eyes - strangely cold, in one so young – blinked up at him.

"Hello," Lion meowed, in the gentlest of rumbles. The kit simply stared up at him, silent.

"Your eyes are very striking," Lion murmured, almost transfixed by the pale blue orbs. "Very cold…very chilling. Do you know your name?"

The kit continued to stare at him, and then slowly shook its head. Despite its small size, this kit was clearly old and well-formed enough to speak; it simply chose not to do so.

"We'll give you a name, then," Lion decided, still struck by his blue eyes. "A name that's fitting…something strong, powerful…." A slow smile crept over his muzzle, and he gave the kit a lick on the ear. "Chill. That will be your name, understand? I am your father now. I will protect you, I promise."

The kit gazed at him, and then gave the slightest of nods, before curling up again. The icy eyes closed once more, and Lion blinked, feeling as if some sort of spell had been broken. He continued to watch the small kit, and then smiled, resting his head on his golden paws.

"Chill…my son."

**. B e l l a d o n n a .**

She nibbled at the mouse, watching Robin do the same. Both of their stomachs rumbled in unison as they stripped the last of the mouse's flesh from its bones; hunting in the forest was very different from hunting in the city streets, or Mother's home.

Belladonna's ears flattened at the thought of Mother; her loss still weighed on the young she-cat's heart. She turned, feeling a gentle nudge from Robin. Her ginger friend smiled.

"Hunting is hard, but we'll get used to it," she meowed, and took in a deep breath. "Smell that forest air? Nothing better in the world, that tom said."

Belladonna nodded, taking in a deep breath of her own. During their adventure in the city, they had met an elderly tom. He had said his name was once Silverstar, but he went by the name of Tarnish to help him remember his mistakes that had eventually led to the destruction of his home. He had been half-dead when they had found him, burning with fever. They had taken care of him as well as they could, but they had been unable to save him. Before dying, he had told them of the rich territory to the north, and warned them of the fierce battles raging within the mountains. Thanks to his warning, Belladonna and Robin had given the mountains a wide berth, traveling north-west instead of due north.

Belladonna yawned, and stretched. She realized Robin was staring at her, with something almost resembling anxiety in her eyes.

"What?" Belladonna asked. Robin glanced away.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "It's just…you're different, now that we're out of Mother's home. Stronger. It's like you…I don't know, adapted to living out here. Like you belong." She stared down at her ginger paws. "I guess I don't feel the same way."

Belladonna gave her friend's ear an affectionate lick. "You'll get used to it too," she assured her. Still, Robin had a point; being in the forest, here in the wild, catching her own prey…it simply felt right, like it was what she was meant to do.

_Those dreams were right, I guess, _she thought, but the memory of her darker dreams, wherein she killed cats, made her shudder.

"Are you satisfied with this place, or are we going to keep moving?" Robin inquired. Belladonna and Robin had been moving through the forest for several days, but they hadn't settled; Belladonna was certain that when they found the right place to live, she would know.

"We haven't found it yet," she answered. Robin's ears drooped in disappointment.

A rustle to their left made Robin jump with surprise. Belladonna's whiskers twitched with amusement.

"See what I mean?" Robin complained. "It was probably just a squirrel or something, but I nearly jumped out of my fur! And look at you, cool as ice." She sighed. Belladonna blinked, and frowned.

"I'm sure it was more than a squirrel," she lied. "It scared me too." She rose to her paws and opened her mouth to scent. She was sure she would only scent prey, like Robin had said, but she knew the gesture would make Robin feel better. Then, her eyes widened as she realized it was not simply prey, but a cat. She glanced at Robin, and saw that the ginger she-cat had scented it as well. Silently, the two of them slunk after the scent, keeping a tail-length of distance between them as they crept through the thick undergrowth. Belladonna's keen eyes scanned the ground before her, noting the subtle signs of a cat's passing – flattened grass here, a smashed flower there, a broken twig – while keeping her mouth open to snare the elusive scent.

The scent suddenly grew stronger, mixing with the scents of other cats, and Belladonna signaled for Robin to stop. Peering through a bramble, her eyes widened as she made out the shape of three cats; toms, from their scents. They were speaking quietly, probably about the two she-cats they had been watching. As Belladonna stared, one of the toms suddenly turned, his golden eyes burning into her own. Before she could move, the tom was on his feet and striding towards them. His coat was a dark gray, dotted with scars, muscles rippling beneath the surface of his skin. His golden eyes glittered as they swept over Belladonna, giving Robin nothing more than a passing glance.

"They're here," he called over his shoulder to the other toms. They rose as well; one bore a coat of flame, the other a tangled brown mess. The brown tom leered at Robin, and she stiffened. The first tom, the gray one, stared at Belladonna with a look that almost resembled hunger.

"Sorry if we frightened you," he meowed smoothly, giving her a respectful nod. "Scorch here spotted you and wanted to take a peek, I suppose. We haven't seen lovely she-cats like the two of you in some time."

Belladonna flushed underneath her fur. "I see." She stiffened slightly. "I hope you three aren't out to make trouble."

His eyes widened. "Of course not!" he said earnestly. "Allow us to introduce ourselves. My name is Blight; my companions are Barb and Scorch." He flicked his tail, first to the brown tom, then to the ginger one. "And you are?"

"I'm Belladonna," she answered, "and this is my friend, Robin."

Blight opened his mouth, breathing in. "What unusual scents you possess," he marveled. "Very mixed, very interesting…would I be wrong to suggest that you lived in Twolegplace?"

"We came from there, yes," she said uncertainly. "And you?"

"The mountains," he replied, and then, noting her look of fear, said quickly, "you don't believe the rumors, do you? I'm amazed they've made it all the way to Twolegplace. Not all mountain cats are cutthroats and monsters, you know." He appeared amused.

"So why the names, then?" Robin asked. "If it's such a nice place, why have names like Blight and Scorch?"

"To be feared, of course," Blight said, as if it was obvious. "Honestly, if there's a cat named Fluffy and a cat named Blight, which would you rather fight?"

"Point taken," Belladonna said, with a slight purr in her voice.

"You two look tired," Blight observed. "Would I be wrong in assuming you haven't been sleeping in a real den for some time?"

"No…yes…I mean, you wouldn't be wrong in amusing that," she answered, feeling almost flustered.

"You're welcome to stay in our dens," Blight offered. Belladonna's ears flattened, feeling instantly wary.

_There's several ways this could work out, _she thought. _If he truly has no ill intentions and we decline, he'll let us go and we'll spend another night huddled together somewhere in the dirt. If he does have bad intentions and we decline, he'll force us into those dens anyway….Or, if we say yes, we'll be in the dens anyway. It really looks like we have no choice but to say yes, because whether he feels good or ill, we'll end up there anyway._

"Yes," she replied, with a cautious glance at Robin. "We'll join you."

"Excellent," Blight purred silkily. "We have two dens, so this should work out nicely, don't you think? Usually I have one to myself, but I can sleep with the riff raff." He gave Barb and Scorch a side glance.

_A den all to himself? So he's the leader of this group, then?_

Blight flicked his tail, sending a glance up to the sky. "It seems a little early to retire, no? Robin, you can check out the dens if you like. Belladonna, would you like to walk with me?" His intense gaze focused on her, and Belladonna could feel her heart beating in her chest, like a bird struggling to fly away. He was different from any tom she had ever known. When Buck had looked at her, there was a gentle warmth in his gaze, a slow-burning ember. With Blight, it was as if both of his eyes had kindled tiny golden fires with them. Her paws felt warm, as if his fire was warming her from the inside.

"Yes," she whispered, and then turned to Robin. "That's okay with you, right?" It really wasn't a question, and Robin knew it wasn't. She dipped her head meekly, following Barb and Scorch back into camp. Blight watched her, almost amused.

"She takes your orders, I see," he observed. "At first, I thought you two were friends, but now I see that is not the case."

Belladonna bristled. "We're friends!" she objected. "We've been friends for moons and moons!"

Blight regarded her calmly. "Really? It seems she didn't get much of a choice in the matter of staying with us…nor did she do much of the talking."

"She just…doesn't like new cats," Belladonna said lamely, but her head, already spinning from Blight's honey-fire eyes, felt clouded. Was he right? Did she really seem more like a leader than a friend to Robin?

"Come on," Blight meowed, flicking his tail. He began padding away, and Belladonna had to move quickly to keep up with his long stride.

"What brings you to the forest?" he inquired.

"What brings you here?" she shot back, not wanting to give anything away. He smiled.

"A fair question, I suppose," he said slowly. "In truth, I'm here as a scout. A powerful cat in the mountains leads a mighty Clan, one that I am a member of. We're looking through the territory past the mountains, seeing where we could extend our borders." He turned his gaze back onto her. "Now, tell me what you're doing here."

She couldn't resist those eyes. She hesitated for a moment, and then decided to tell him the truth; after all, they wouldn't be here long. "I have dreams," she confessed. "Or, I did. Robin and I were kittypets, but our owner, Mother, died. I'd been having dreams of living in the wild, hunting and stuff. They felt…special somehow, you know? So when Mother died, I decided I would follow them. I didn't tell Robin, though, just that I felt we should move on."

"So you don't even trust her with that?" he asked. Her ears flattened again, and she felt a prickling of shame. How could she not trust her best friend with something like this, but she could blurt it to a complete stranger?

"I'm afraid she'd think I was crazy," she admitted. "She's my best friend, I don't want her to think of me as being unhinged or something."

"If you really thought she was your best friend, you wouldn't worry about her thinking you were crazy," he said gently. "You would know that she would trust you and believe in your judgment."

Belladonna's head felt too muddled to argue with him. They simply continued walking in silence.

A loud sound, like a fox's bark, suddenly rang through the air. Belladonna stiffened with fright, but Blight simply seemed annoyed.

"Wait here," he ordered. "I need to go see what that was."

Before she could argue, he had disappeared, rustling leaves the only sign of his presence. She waited a moment, anxiously, but he did not return. She could hear no sounds of a scuffle, but the image of a fox biting down on Blight's neck, sending a spray of crimson into the air, blazed in her mind.

_What if that really was a fox? What if he's hurt? I can't let him fight something alone! _She thought. Silently, she padded in the direction he had gone. It took her a moment to realize he had been heading back to camp. Confused, she crouched in the brush as camp entered her gaze, hiding behind the patch of brambles from before.

"The signal was hardly necessary," Blight was complaining to one of the toms, who was out of her sight. Belladonna's gaze darted around the parts of camp that she could see, but Robin was nowhere to be found. "Honestly, I think a dying badger would have sounded more like a fox, idiot."

"Well, how else was I supposed to get you back, when you were off playing around with that she-cat?" one of the others, either Scorch or Barb, snapped. "Now she's out of earshot, so we can talk about this. I'm sure you've noticed, but there are only two of them and three of us. Who gets which she-cat? I'm not sharing, and I'm going to get one of them! The blue-cream one looks delicious…."

"She's mine," Blight replied, a dangerous growl on the edge of his voice.

"Fine, then I'll take the ginger one," the second tom meowed.

"What about me?" the third demanded. "I deserve one as well! Blight, why should you get the cream? What if I want her?"

"You were there at the ShellClan battle, weren't you?" Blight asked, an even tone to his voice. "You saw how I slaughtered their deputy, securing victory for FrozenClan. If Tidepool was no match for me, what makes you think you are?"

"That was just lu—" The tom started to object, only for his words to break off as Blight made a feral noise. He lunged, disappearing from Belladonna's sight, but she could hear the tom's gurgle as Blight's claws sank into his neck. Her breath caught in her own throat, and she felt as if she was going to throw up.

"That takes care of our she-cat problem, doesn't it, Barb? I assume you're not going to object?" Blight's voice was cool, despite the crime he had just committed.

"Y-Yes, fine," Barb stammered. "I didn't like Scorch anyway…."

"Get rid of the body, I want no evidence for when Belladonna returns," Blight ordered. "You've secured Robin?"

"She isn't getting out of the den," Barb answered. There was the sound of leaves crackling, and Belladonna knew Scorch was being dragged away. She had to clamp her jaw shut to stop herself from being sick.

All too late, she realized that Barb was not dragging the body away, but rather towards her. Before she could flee, his dark eyes gleamed as she spotted her.

"She saw everything!" Barb yowled. Belladonna caught a glimpse of Blight's eyes, burning with anger and hunger, before she turned and fled.

She raced through the forest as quickly as she could, knowing that she was leaving a wide trail behind her as she blundered through the brush. Despite their days in the forest, she had still been a kittypet for most of her life. She didn't know how to move through crowded forest, how to hide her trail, how to run from pursuers in territory she didn't know. Really, it was inevitable that she would be caught.

Before she knew what had happened, she suddenly found herself face-down in the dirt with an immense weight on her back. Just as she thought her back would surely break from the weight, pain blazed in her mind as stars danced before her eyes. Blackness suddenly enclosed upon her, swallowing her up.

. . .

At first, she thought it was night, a night with no stars or moon. It took her a moment before her vision cleared, and she realized that the dirt underneath her paws was smooth, almost sandy. She rose to her paws, only to find panic welling up inside of her as she realized she was enclosed in earth.

She was in a den.

One of the shapes she had thought was the wall shifted slightly. She shrank back, realizing it was a cat. Blight opened his eyes, golden glory blazing forth. He simply stared at her for a moment, before a cold, brutal smile curled his scarred muzzle.

"Your mine, pet. Let the fun begin."

**AN: Rainshimmer, I loves you and your questions! Contrary to popular belief, I really do adore answering questions. Blabbing about my characters just makes me squee. xD**

**Anyway, new poll on my homepage! It's about my blog, so I'd appreciate it if all of you guys vote (it's just to see how many people are following it, y'know). I need at least seven votes on the poll before I'll post the next chapter, otay? Thankies, luffs~**

Sorry for the update-time on this; I had to work hard on the Belladonna chapter, deciding how much I could squeeze in…what happens to her would be too much for half a chapter, so I had to split it up a bit. Sorry. ;)


	19. C h a p t e r 18

**C **_**h a p t e r**_** 18**

She changed his wrappings again the next day, using the dried oak leaves as well as the burdock leaves. Blackmoon visited again with Jag, but had little to say, simply checking over the wounds before leaving again. There was nothing he could do, not unless Forest's fever broke. There were herbs that could curb the fever, but since the fever itself was fighting the infection, it would do little good. If the fever went on, Forest's body would eventually give out. If the fever was halted with herbs, the infection would rage unchecked throughout his body.

Jag brought with him a few pieces of prey, which Silverstreak picked at half-heartedly and attempted to feed to Forest, although he threw it up later. Forest flitted in and out of consciousness, although he never seemed to know where he was, or who he was with. Eventually, Jag left again, telling Silverstreak that he would return the next day. Hopefully the river would be low enough to allow Reedrush to cross with Blitz, without fearing that she might lose the little white kit. Silverstreak looked forward to it; with Reedrush present, Silverstreak would have more to do than to simply hover over Forest anxiously, praying that he would live.

The next day Blackmoon returned, looking graver than ever as he examined Forest. Finally, he turned to Silverstreak, his eyes sorrowful.

"His body can't go on like this," the black tom said softly. "I'm sorry, Silverstreak…but this fever has to break, or he won't survive. By nightfall, if he hasn't cooled…you'll have to say your goodbyes." His blue eyes didn't meet Silverstreak's gaze.

Her shoulders slumped. "I understand. Thank you," she murmured, before gazing down at Forest. She said nothing else, and after a brief moment, Blackmoon left the den silently.

Silverstreak didn't look away from Forest again until Jag came again.

"Reedrush is still too nervous about the river," he said as he entered, "but she says she's sorry….what's wrong?"

"The fever has to break," she meowed tonelessly. "And I don't think it will."

Jag rested his tail on her shoulder. "Don't give up," he said softly. "Forest could still pull through. And if not…he has to be a good cat, if you're so anxious about him. Whether he liked Clan cats or not, he'll certainly go to a better place."

Silverstreak nodded, not meeting Jag's eyes. "I hope so."

"I brought you some more prey, if you're hungry," Jag said, almost hesitantly. Silverstreak gave him the tiniest nods, her eyes still locked on Forest's unmoving body.

Jag pressed his pelt against hers. "Do you want me to stay?"

Silverstreak shook her head. "I'm fine," she mewed. "Go ahead. I'm sure Reedrush is anxious without you."

Jag dipped his head respectfully, and she heard, without turning, the sound of his large paws padding away.

. . .

Forest's condition did not change by the time the stars were beginning to peek out, as the sun splashed its dying colors across the sky. Silverstreak's gaze left him only once, to watch the moon rise. She blinked up at the stars, feeling suddenly heavy; if she were to die right now, she wasn't sure she would be able to climb her way to the stars. Where would she go, then? Would her spirit sink down instead of up? Did the Dark Forest lie beneath the earth? Or was there simply nothing for those who could not follow the path of stars?

She returned her gaze to Forest, feeling hopelessness well up inside of her. _He can't beat it, _she thought. _And when he dies, there will be nowhere for him to go. In all our years and our wisdom, StarClan has never told us what happens to the rouges, the loners, the kittypets. Do they simply not know? Or is the truth something warriors don't want to hear?_

Without realizing it, she had pressed her nose into Forest's side, breathing in his earthy scent.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice muffled by his fur. "I should never have deserted Frostfeather and Ravenwing. I should have never fought with them. I should have never come to this forest. If I had never come here, you'd be alive and well, safe. I won't be there to see my best friend have her kits, to comfort Ravenwing and promise that Eaglestrike will return to her…and you'll be…." She trailed off, quivering. She closed her eyes, resting her head against his side, still shaking.

"Pr…."

At first she thought she had imagined it, the tiniest whisper of a voice.

"Princess."

Her eyes shot open and she turned, to blink into a single bright green eye staring back at her. And then, hardly able to believe it, she saw the faintest curl of a smile.

"Forest!" she cried with disbelief. She suddenly realized that the heat she had felt coming from his pelt hours before had eased. How had she not noticed it? Had she been too caught up in her grief?

"Forest," she said again, softer this time.

"You alright?" he rasped. His voice was weak, and Silverstreak almost laughed; he had been flitting in an out of consciousness for days, nearly died from the fever burning within him, and he was concerned about her?

"I'm fine," she said slowly, still stunned. "Are you…are you all there?"

"I don't think I'm dreaming," he croaked. "Or…whatever was happening before…I remember waking up a few times, and you weren't there…some other cat…." His voice was becoming weaker, and Silverstreak sprang to her paws, hearing the thirst in it.

"I'll be right back," she promised, brushing her tail over his muzzle gently, before racing out of the den.

Her paws seemed to fly over the soft earth, and when she saw the stars dancing over the glittering river, she knew that if she died at that very moment, she would fly well over the stars.

When she returned with her water-soaked moss, Forest's eyes were closed. They opened again as she neared, and he was able to raise his head slightly to let the water slide down his throat. He let out the softest sigh of contentment, resting his head back down onto his paws.

"Are you hungry?" Silverstreak asked.

"Like a badger."

Digging up a mouse that Jag had caught, Silverstreak carefully began ripping off small pieces, feeding them to Forest slowly, watching him anxiously in case his body rejected the meat. He seemed to become stronger with each bite, and his green eyes regained their brightness. Silverstreak couldn't stop purring, her entire body thrumming with joy.

Forest swallowed the last piece of prey, and yawned, resting his head on his mud-colored paws. He was still weak, but seemed relaxed, as if he was comforted by her presence.

Silverstreak laid down beside him, feeling his fur against her pelt, cool in comparison to the fire that had been burning underneath it. She simply stayed there for a moment, soaking in the fact that Forest was alive and well, before rising to her paws.

"I'm going to change your wounds," she explained when he glanced at her. Using the dried oak leaves, marigold, and a little burdock, she replaced the old cobwebs with new ones and examined his leg.

"It looks better, I think," she said slowly. Forest turned his head slightly to stare at her.

"What did Blackmoon say about it?"

She shrugged. "He was more concerned about the fact that you felt like you were on fire," she answered with a slight smile. Now that the crisis was over, she felt almost light-hearted about it.

Forest made a quiet noise that might have been a laugh. Silverstreak laid down beside him again.

"I'm glad you're okay."

"So I heard." Forest smiled her favorite crooked smile.

"You heard what I was saying?" Silverstreak asked, flushing under her fur.

"Bits and pieces; I was starting to wake up, I guess," he yawned again. "I feel like I've been running through the forest for days. You mind if I sleep?"

"Of course not," she said quickly. "You need your rest if you're going to heal."

Forest's eyes closed, and within moments his breathing was long and steady. Silverstreak watched him for a moment, before resting her head on her own paws. Slowly, her blue eyes closed.

. . .

Murmuring voices danced in the edge of her sleep. She recognized Forest's light-hearted tone, and the over voice, deep like rolling thunder. She felt herself rising out of her sleep, as her eyes opened.

Forest and Jag were speaking in low tones. Forest's green eyes darted towards her and he smiled, realizing that she was awake.

"Sorry, we were trying to let you sleep," he meowed.

"You're the one who needs sleep," Silverstreak replied, stretching.

"Jag says that you were up for hours and hours taking care of me, while I was just passed out," Forest meowed. Silverstreak glanced towards Jag.

"How is Reedrush?"

"Fine, the river is low again," Jag rumbled. "I think she'll be bringing Blitz along soon, so I've started digging a den for her. I just came to see how you were doing, and found Forest awake. He says he feels much better, thanks to your care."

"StarClan protected him, not me," Silverstreak meowed. Forest turned to her again.

"I don't believe in StarClan," he said softly, "but I believe in you."

Their gazes locked for a moment, before Silverstreak glanced away.

"Do you know when Reedrush will be here?" she asked, ignoring the prickling of her pelt as she felt Forest's eyes on her.

"As soon as I'm finished, so I should probably get back to it," Jag growled. "Do you need anything?"

Silverstreak shook her head, rising to her paws. "I can still hunt, you know."

Jag nodded, and left the den. Forest blinked at Silverstreak.

"Who was he, exactly?"

"A friend," Silverstreak replied. "Reedrush is a she-cat he came here with. Her father came to her in her dreams and told her to find me; she escaped from a Twoleg prison and made her way here, meeting up with Jag on the way. She was pregnant at the time, and kitted. One of her kits was too weak to survive the journey. The other one, Blitz, is alive and well. She saved my life when the river flooded; it washed me away when I was looking for marigold, but she helped me."

Forest nodded slowly. "I think he's the cat that I thought was…."

"He told me." She brushed her tail over his side. "I'm sorry; I didn't realize you were so affected by his death. You weren't friends, were you?"

He shook his head. "Not so much, really. But I should have been there to help him, you know? There was no reason for him to die…."

"There was nothing you could have done; you were young, the apprentices might have beaten you, and you would have died too."

"And where would we be then? You'd be here with a home, safe, and you'd go back to your friends without having to go through this whole ordeal." Forest shook his head. "We might all be better off."

Silverstreak's eyes narrowed. "Don't say that," she growled. "If I didn't think you were worth saving, I wouldn't have. You're a good cat, Forest. A great cat, considering everything you've been through."

Forest just grunted in reply, and his eyes closed again, a sign that he was finished talking. Silverstreak frowned at him, and rose to her paws.

"I'm going hunting," she called, "I'll be back."

. . .

She opened her mouth, breathing in the forest air. She could hear the rustling of prey, but she wasn't really looking for it. Jag had caught enough prey to last for a few days, unless Forest's appetite increased substantially. No, she really just wanted to clear her head, to have time to sit down and think. Forest was going to be okay, he was going to live, and in a moon or so his leg would be healed. Northstar wouldn't tell the Clan about him, as such a brutal attack would cause questions in PeakClan to rise about Northstar's past. Forest would be fine.

But BirchClan? That was another question altogether. She had felt from the first time she set foot in this forest that it was to be the home for her Clan. She _knew_ this was where they belonged. But it might not be an option. There was PeakClan to contend with, for starters. She was sure that StarClan would smile upon BirchClan rather than PeakClan, if PeakClan had become so distant from them, but the fighting would still be bitter and bloody. The new BirchClan lacked the numbers to start a war, especially with so large a Clan; for moons, the only thing checking PeakClan's expansion would have been disease (probably rare), predators (seemingly absent) and the territory itself (which was expansive). Until PeakClan hunted their prey to extinction (unlikely with Twolegplace and its mice so close), their population could expand indefinitely. BirchClan would need a truly impressive fighting force to beat them.

And then, there was Forest. This was his home; he'd kidnapped her to keep it safe. He hated and mistrusted Clan cats with all of his heart; if Silverstreak brought more of them into his home, what would it mean for him? He would either have to flee, or he would try to fight, and if he threatened BirchClan's young he would have to be killed.

Silverstreak couldn't let that happen. She couldn't betray him like that; what was the point of saving his life if she was going to take the only thing that mattered to him, his home?

_We'll just have to find somewhere else, _she thought sadly. _I'll go back to Frostfeather and Ravenwing as soon as Forest can take care of himself. I won't even tell them about this place; we'll head in another direction. There has to be another forest where we can live, without endangering ourselves or the lives of others._

And yet, even the thought of leaving weighed heavy on her heart. It wasn't just the territory that wanted to keep her here, it was Forest himself. There was something so…engaging about him, so interesting. He was a good-hearted cat like she hadn't met before, and something about the way he looked at her…she couldn't quite find the words to describe it, only that she knew she didn't want to leave him.

_But I must. For BirchClan. I won't let my mission take over my life, but I know it has to be more important than any friendship I might have with Forest. It just isn't meant to be._

She let out a quiet sigh, feeling more peaceful. She tilted her head slightly, listening to the far-off sound of the river, before turning around and heading back to Forest's den.

Forest was awake again, and she smiled at him as she entered. He gave her a quizzical look, and she blushed as she realized she was supposed to have been hunting.

"The prey wasn't really running," she lied. "We've got enough to last for a bit anyway, I guess."

A sound made her turn, as Jag's huge form filled the entrance of the den. He dropped three pieces of prey – a mouse, a vole, and a robin – on the ground. Forest gave Silverstreak an amused glance, and she flushed again, caught in her lie.

"I'm finished with the den, so I'm going to tell Reedrush," Jag growled. "She should be in it tomorrow, around sunhigh, alright?"

Silverstreak and Forest both nodded.

"Did you see Blackmoon while you were hunting?" Silverstreak asked. "He hasn't come to visit today, I'm afraid he might have been caught or injured or something."

Jag shook his broad head. "I haven't scented a single cat," he meowed. "The cats here are lax, too confident that no one would dare enter their territory. They're sloppy."

Forest grunted in agreement, and Silverstreak shot him a glance before nodding to Jag.

"Tell Reedrush I said hi, and to give Blitz a lick for me," she purred. Jag dipped his head, and left the den.

Silverstreak buried the mouse and the vole, plucking the feathers from the robin to share with Forest. She made sure to rip off small pieces for him, giving him the bulk of the meal. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it; Forest didn't have much of an appetite yet, and it would be rude for her to eat an entire piece of prey in front of him.

Forest licked his whiskers clean, and yawned. "Do you think I could go out into the clearing tomorrow? I do feel much better."

Silverstreak glanced him over dubiously. "I don't think it would be good for your leg. We should ask Blackmoon when he comes back."

Forest made a noise of distaste. "You can't always depend on Clan cats," he growled. "No offense." Silverstreak simply nodded, and Forest's face became thoughtful. "Where are you going?"

"What?"

"After I'm better, once my leg heals and I can hunt. Where will you go? Are you going to find your friends and bring them back here?"

She looked down at her paws, ignoring his curious, studious gaze. "I'm not completely sure," she admitted. "My body and my heart are telling me that I belong here; my father even came to tell me so. But there's PeakClan to think of, and…." She trailed off uncertainly, not sure what to say about the way she found herself feeling towards him. She wouldn't even know where to begin.

Forest simply nodded, and gazed out of the den, although she could tell from the far-away look in his eyes that he was thinking of something else entirely. She rested her head on her paws, her own head full of puzzling thoughts. Leaving this forest was easier said than done.

. . .

Without realizing it, she must have dozed off, for she found herself waking with the sun shining in her eyes. She blinked slowly, unsure as to why she had woken up. Forest was asleep, and it appeared he had not moved. Jag would not return until the next day. Had Blackmoon come?

She rose to her paws, and opened her mouth to catch the scents flowing into the den. Her eyes widened and her heart leaped in her chest. Could it be…?

She raced to the entrance, sweeping her gaze over the clearing eagerly. No, there was nothing there. She had been mistaken. Her ears flattened, and she moved to turn back into the den, when a flicker of movement from a bush caught her eye. She turned towards it, and a sleek black pelt slipped out. Green eyes met blue, and the black cat let out a yowl of joy.

"Silverstreak!" she cried, racing towards her. Behind her appeared a strong gray tom, a nervous black tom, a heavily pregnant white queen, a little silver kit, and a muscular tom whose pelt was a mixture of light and dark browns.

Silverstreak was frozen in shock as Ravenwing nearly knocked her over, stopping at the last moment to lick Silverstreak's shoulder. Ravenwing's green eyes were glowing with joy. Silverstreak simply stared at her for a moment, before her gaze flitted over the other cats – Eaglestrike, Death, Frostfeather, Shimmer, and a tom she didn't know.

_Am I dreaming? Am I imagining this? How could Eaglestrike be here? _She thought. She suddenly felt dizzy, and swayed on her paws.

Ravenwing quickly moved to support her. "We're so glad to find you!" The usually quiet she-cat's voice was high-pitched with excitement. "We've been looking all over Twolegplace for you!"

The other cats approached slowly. Eaglestrike's muzzle was curled into a warm smile as he greeted his foster-sister, and pressed his pelt against Ravenwing's side. Death's face was split into a grin as he glanced Silverstreak up and down – comparing her to Frostfeather, no doubt. Shimmer seemed pleased to see Silverstreak in one peace, and the strange brown tom appeared uncertain how to approach.

Only Frostfeather remained immobile, still staring at Silverstreak. Silverstreak was suddenly aware of the tension between them, tension that still crackled from their parting words. Frostfeather's belly was swollen, and it was clear she could very well give birth within the moon.

"Frostfeather, I—" Silverstreak started to say, but the white queen raised her tail to silence her.

"We've all made mistakes, I guess," Frostfeather said slowly. "I'm sorry, Silverstreak. For everything."

And then this time it was Silverstreak who was running, as she raced to press her pelt against Frostfeather's. She and Frostfeather purred in unison, as the others crowded around them.

"I don't understand, though," Silverstreak meowed, blinking at the faces surrounding her. "Frostfeather, Ravenwing, Death, how did you find me? When did you meet up with Shimmer? Eaglestrike, how did you get here? And who is he?" She flicked her tail towards the brown tom.

"It's a bit of a long story, sis," Eaglestrike said. "Long story short, Crowtalon – Slaughter – is dead. He took over FrozenClan, reshaping it into something called TalonClan. There was a rogue named Lion that entered TalonClan while I was living undercover. I thought Lion would be an ally, as did my friend Brightfire, but I was wrong. He defeated Slaughter, but he didn't let the Clans go like we had thought. TalonClan is under his control now, and he's using it to try and destroy the rest of BirchClan. BirchClan didn't know about this, Silverstreak, but Lion led a group of rogues that lived on our territory for a long time. He agreed to fight a patrol for your father, but his family was killed in the battle. It warped him, and now he seems to think that it was Fadedstar's fault. Fadedstar is dead; you're the only one he can swear revenge on. He's waiting until Slaughter's scouts return before he attacks us."

"Brightfire was the tom I had kits with, in ShellClan," Frostfeather said softly. "He's a good cat, Eaglestrike says he joined TalonClan because of his sister, who was with kits. Brightfire's been trying to resist TalonClan since it all began. We don't know what will happen to him now."

"And this is Buck," Ravenwing mewed, flicking her tail towards the brown tom. "He was looking for some friends of his, but found us instead. He's decided to stay, since there's no way of knowing where his friends went."

Silverstreak blinked, absorbing the details. "How long until Lion's scouts get back?"

"Two moons, approximately," Eaglestrike answered, "although we can't know for sure. He sent scouts to the west, east, and south; there could be scouts following you right now."

Her ears flattened. "Jag attacked some scouts the other day; I made him let one of them go. He could lead Lion right to us…." She cursed herself inwardly.

"Jag?" Frostfeather echoed, confused. Silverstreak sighed, and explained everything as quickly as she could.

"There's another Clan here?" Ravenwing looked anxious.

"Forget the Clan, Northstar is here!" Frostfeather hissed. "Silverstreak, we've got to get out of here! It'll serve Northstar right if he gets killed by TalonClan, but I'm not having my kits somewhere so dangerous!"

"Forest is hurt, I can't just leave him," Silverstreak argued. "Jag and Reedrush might be joining the Clan too, and Reedrush will never want to travel with Blitz, not after Myrtle died."

Frostfeather's tail lashed with agitation, and she looked almost as if she was going to argue again. She let out a sigh, flattening her fur. "I don't want to fight with you again, Silverstreak. We've got a few days to figure this out, I guess."

Silverstreak smiled at her. "Yeah, we've got a little time…the sun's going to set soon, though, and you guys don't have anywhere to sleep."

Eaglestrike and Buck glanced at each other.

"We can dig a den," Eaglestrike meowed. "You ladies just relax." Eaglestrike padded away to look for a likely site for the den, while Buck stared menacingly at Death until the thin tom slunk after him, following Eaglestrike. Amused, Silverstreak glanced at Frostfeather.

"Is he still following you around like a lost kit?"

"Unfortunately, my charms are too much for him," Frostfeather said with a laugh. She smiled, and it was then that Silverstreak realized she had forgotten about Forest.

_He's going to have a fit about this, _she thought anxiously. _He hates Clan cats as it is, and he isn't even comfortable with Blackmoon, let alone all of these other cats! We might have to leave sooner than I had thought after all, for his own comfort…._

"Be right back," she said softly, before trotting into Forest's den. He was awake and tense, green eyes bright.

"Is it PeakClan?" he whispered. Silverstreak shook her head.

"It's my friends, and a few other cats," she answered. Anxiety clouded Forest's eyes. She pressed her tail against his flank comfortingly. "It's Frostfeather and Ravenwing, plus Ravenwing's mate, Eaglestrike. I told you about the three of them. And then there's this little kit we found named Shimmer, a small tom named Death, and another cat that they met on their journey, Buck."

"I remember Buck," Forest meowed, blinking slowly. "He was young when I left Mother. I think I might have played with him a few times; he was a good kit."

Silverstreak sighed softly. "I didn't know they were coming so soon, I would have told you. I'm sorry, Forest, I know this will make you uncomfortable. You won't have to be worried for long, though."

Forest's ears pricked. "What do you mean?" Emotion burned in his eyes, but Silverstreak wasn't looking at him; she was gazing out of the den, at her friends, her own eyes clouded.

"It seems that the leader of our enemies knows where we are, or he will soon. He's coming after my friends and I in a few moons; it isn't safe here for us. It was dangerous already with you and PeakClan, but now this too….We have to leave, and soon, before Frostfeather is too heavy to walk without potentially damaging the kits."

"You're leaving? When?"

Silverstreak still didn't look at him. "Soon, I guess. Jag and Reedrush will come, they'll have too; Lion will be looking for them too, with the stories Snake will tell…I should never have let him go, huh? We'll probably leave in a few days, I guess…we haven't really decided, but it's inevitable now."

"Princess…."

The word make her turn, and she saw that Forest's green eyes were locked onto her. "I kidnapped you so your friends wouldn't know you were here, wouldn't settle in this territory," he said slowly. "I wanted to protect it from more Clan cats."

"I know," she said softly. "That's why we're leaving."

"No, I'm not finished. I thought all Clan cats were evil, corrupt; this was the only Clan I knew of. But you…I kidnapped you, held you against your will, and you still tried to help me, to save me. You nearly died getting marigold to help me. And Blackmoon….he's a good cat too, Clan or not. Not all of the Clans are like PeakClan. I don't believe in StarClan, but you do, and you said StarClan led you here. This is where you belong, Silverstreak."

Silverstreak simply stared at him disbelievingly. All of the stress and thoughts of leaving, and he wanted her to stay? She didn't understand it.

"Forest…." She whispered. "We can't stay. It's noble of you, but…we can't. I won't do that to you."

"You will," he meowed, and he raised his muzzle, so it was almost touching hers. "Because even if you leave, leg or no leg, I'm coming with you. I'm going to join your Clan…and we'll fight this Lion together. We'll fight TalonClan and PeakClan all at once, it doesn't matter. If you believe StarClan is with you, you can't lose."

Silverstreak's pelt was prickling again, and she felt a strange heat underneath her fur. He was close enough to touch.

She pulled away, standing in the entrance, her thoughts fuzzy. Then, she turned to Forest, and smiled.

"I knew I met you for a reason," she mewed, her blue eyes locked onto his leaf-green pair. "This forest is where we belong. And you belong here with us."

_StarClan will provide._

**AN: Sorry for this slow update…I've had lots to deal with in school and such, and then the reviews for the last chapter. Only six…very disappointing….**


	20. C h a p t e r 19: Belladonna & Nightshad

**AN: This chappy might crush your spirits a little. It won't be pretty. If you actually don't want to read it (understandable) skip it and on the next chapter I upload, I'll have a brief summary. Less soul-sucking pain that way.**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**19: Belladonna & Nightshade**

"Back off!" Belladonna snarled, her blue-and-cream fur bristling. "I'll rip your muzzle off, I swear to the stars! Let us go!"

Blight simply appeared amused, and Belladonna was chilled by the smile curling his muzzle. She remembered again the sound as Blight cold-heartedly slit his ally's throat. Why wouldn't he do the same to her? She could only imagine what he had in mind.

"Now, we'll have to go over this slowly, I suppose," he purred, a silky note to his voice as he took a step forward. "Don't worry, my pet. You'll be fixed before the moon is up, that is my promise to you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Fixed?"

"All in good time." A malicious grin twisted his face. Her only warning was his golden eyes taking on a ghoulish glow, before his paw flashed towards her like lightning. As the den dissolved around her, she was aware only of a ringing in her ears and two golden orbs, like miniature suns, burning brightly in her vision.

. . .

When she came to, she thought the day had turned to night. However, as Blight shifted his weight, she realized he was at the entrance again, blocking the light from her searching eyes.

"Now, if you just go along with what I say, nothing bad has to happen to you." His voice was soft, but the amusement and passion had faded from his eyes, replaced with a coldness that chilled her to the bone.

"Now…who is the Master?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Let me out of here!" she spat, but inside she was quaking. _He's insane. Truly, he is mouse-dirt insane!_

She was unprepared for the blow which sent her sprawling across the dirt floor.

"If you won't cooperate, I'm afraid thins will be getting ugly," he remarked. "We wouldn't want that, would we?"

He regained his position, blocking the entrance once more and fixing her with his golden eyes. Still reeling from the blow, Belladonna rose to her paws shakily. Beside Blight, she could see the smallest sliver of light between him and the den's wall. Clenching her jaw, she narrowed her eyes. She wasn't going down without a fight, and hopefully Robin would do the same.

She lunged forward, feinting to the right before leaping to the left, towards the light. Blight seemed to move almost lazily, blocking her easily. He turned to the side, so that she ran directly into his shoulder. It was as unyielding as rock, and she stumbled back, coughing. Blight stared at her for a moment, as if curious, before lashing out with his claws, scoring a deep slice down her shoulder. She couldn't help but yowl in pain. Blight moved back to his position.

Hopelessness welled up inside of her. Blight could kill her with a twitch of his tail, he was that much stronger than her.

_When Robin and I teamed up on that tom, moons ago, we would have never been able to fight him separately. He was too strong for us even then, and he wasn't a young cat. Blight's in his prime, and insanely strong. I can't beat him._

"I'll ask you again," Blight murmured. "Who is the Master?"

Belladonna spat at him, spittle landing on one of his gray paws. He glanced down at it distastefully, and for a moment, Belladonna thought he would do nothing. Then, faster than she would have thought possible, he struck. His claws were sheathed, but as his paw slammed into her muzzle, she cried out again, falling to the side. She was helpless against his power, as he rained blows down upon her. She tried fighting back, slashing at his face, but it just made him strike harder. His claws stayed sheathed, but by the time he took a step back, surveying his handiwork, she was reduced to lying on the ground whimpering in pain.

Blight watched her, his face devoid of emotion. "I'll be back. Hopefully you'll know who your master is by then, won't you?" He turned away, padding out of the den. Belladonna struggled to her paws, seeing a brief chance to escape, but collapsed again as pain lanced down her back. She lay on the ground, helpless, watching as Blight reappeared, rolling a massive boulder over the entrance. Only when the boulder blocked the rest of the weak light, did Belladonna realize she had been letting out a steady, low whimper.

. . .

Bright light made her open her eyes, only to squint again in pain. The light was too much for her eyes, and she turned away. She was dimly aware of the earth under her paw, and the aches of her body.

The pain sharpened her mind, and the events that had befallen her made her open her eyes once more, fear stiffening her fur. The light suddenly disappeared, and she blinked at Blight's large form filling up the entrance.

"Now, are you going to answer my question correctly?"

Belladonna squinted up at him. Hunger clawed her belly and she was parched; logic told her that if she submitted to him, she would receive the food and water she needed, as well as a place to relieve her swollen bladder. However, pride and anger held back the words.

"Never," she hissed. "I will never submit to you!" She let out a hiss of pain as his paw met her flank, sending new pain into her bruised ribs. She lashed out with her claws, and she heard Blight let out a hiss. New pain stung her like bees, and she realized he had unsheathed his claws.

The blows rained down upon her, reducing her to nothing more than a quivering bundle of blood-stained fur. She let out a moan as Blight took a step back.

"Perhaps tomorrow."

. . .

She managed to hold out for three more days of torture, during which time her body cried out from the pain, hunger, and thirst. Eventually she could no longer control her body, and she was forced to relieve herself on the corner of the cramped den. By the fifth day of being Blight's prisoner, she had nothing left to give, no more willpower to resist him. She was weaker than a newborn kitten, her once beautiful fur dirty and tangled, her bright eyes dulled by pain and fear.

"Hello, my pet," Blight meowed as he pushed the boulder aside. "Are you ready?"

Belladonna's eyes closed, unable to meet his fierce gaze, unable to stand the scent of prey wafting from his mouth. He had recently eaten something, perhaps a vole, and her mouth was moist with the little water she had left within her.

"Now," Blight drawled, taking his time, "who is the Master?"

She opened her eyes, staring up at him, seeing them glittering down at her assuredly. He knew he would win eventually; he knew she didn't have the willpower to die rather than join him. For who was she, really? Just a weak kittypet guided by false dreams, who thought she could somehow live in the wild with all of the evil and cruelty in the world.

"You," she whispered, her voice cracking with thirst.

His eyes flashed. "What?"

"You," she croaked, filled with self-loathing for her weakness. "You are the Master."

Blight's face split in a malicious grin, and he lowered his muzzle so that his breath was hot against her ear. "I knew you'd learn eventually." The stench of the prey he had eaten filled Belladonna's mouth, and she retched, her stomach clenching even though she had nothing left to expel.

"I'll be back in a moment, pet," Blight purred, before leaving the den. He did not move the boulder, allowing sunlight to stream into the den for the first time in days, almost as an act of kindness. Belladonna raised dull eyes to the sky, watching the sun burn brightly.

He returned with a mouse clenched in his jaws, and a bundle of wet moss hooked on one claw. He threw them both to her. Belladonna struggled with herself for a moment, trying to hold onto the shreds of her dignity, but the smell of the prey was too much. Within moments she was on the mouse, ripping it to shreds with her fangs in her hurry to eat it, lest Blight snatch it away from her. She gulped down the water from the moss, filling her parched mouth, and even swallowed the moss itself, so eager was she to gain every last drop of moisture. Blight simply watched her, his head cocked to one side.

"You see how easy this is?" he asked. "Who is the Master, pet? Who brought you these nice things?"

"You," she whispered, staring at him hungrily, hoping that by accepting his authority he would bring her more food, more water.

"Good, good," Blight murmured. "So much progress already. I think this will work out well, don't you?"

She stared at him, but it was clear he didn't expect an answer from her, and so she stayed silent. Despite feeling almost refreshed, her mind was still foggy, dull from the repeated blows to her head and the other tortures Blight had put her through.

"We've still got work to do, pet, so don't worry." He smiled at her again, his eyes glinting with malice. "We're not finished yet."

With that, he padded away, shoving the boulder back into place. She watched him go, watch the boulder block out the precious sunlight. It took her a few moments after he left, but she slowly realized, _He didn't strike me._

To her weakened self, it was clear; do as Blight asked, and he would not strike her again.

. . .

She raised her head as he entered the next day, hoping for food or water. He brought nothing, and the look he gave her made her pelt crawl with fear. It was the same look from when he had beaten her, broken her will to resist.

"You are not Belladonna," he meowed. She blinked, confused. What did he mean? "I am the Master, and I say it is so. You are not Belladonna."

She shrank back, puzzled, certain that he would hit her. He did not. He simply repeated it, over and over, the words ringing in her head.

_I am not Belladonna. He is the Master, and he says it is so. I am not Belladonna._

"You are not even a cat," he continued. "You are nothing. Worthless. Worth even less than the tiniest flea. I am the Master, and I say it is so. You are nothing."

Her ears flattened, his words cutting into her almost as painfully as his claws. _Worthless._

He moved forward, circling her as best he could with her back pressed up against the far wall. He continued to repeat himself, saying it over and over until her own mind was saying it with him.

Rebellion flared within her, suddenly, as the impact of his words hit her.

_He is not the Master! I am Belladonna, and I am not worthless!_

She let out a snarl, baring her fangs. Instantly, Blight's own face mirrored hers, snarling. Without warning, he slashed his claws down the side of her face, barely missing her eye. She let out a whimper of pain, shrinking down to the earth, the rebellion flowing out of her with her blood, staining her muzzle crimson.

"You will listen to me," he hissed. "I am the Master."

She stared at him, and his fury seemed to subside. "I suppose you will not be eating again today," he said, almost off-handedly, as if her reaction meant nothing to him. He turned away from her, leaving the den and moving the boulder back into place.

He returned the next day, saying the same words again. She was not Belladonna. She was worthless. He was the Master; he had all of the power. She stayed silent, simply watching him as he padded back and forth, drilling his words into her mind. She did not rebel outwardly, nor inwardly, but she did not embrace the words. She simply sat there, silent, watching.

After many hours, he left her again, still with nothing to eat or drink. The corner where she was forced to relieve herself was developing a powerful stench, one that followed her into even her feverish dreams.

The third day was no different, but desperation was edging into her by the fourth. He was using new phrases, but the message was the same: She was not who she thought she was, she was worthless, and if she did not cooperate with the Master then she would die.

She had stopped following him with her eyes, lacking the strength to even do this. She simply rested her head on her filthy paws, staring blankly in front of her while his words danced in her mind as he paced back and forth. His voice was soft, always, but dangerously slow, like the gentle hiss of a snake before the strike.

Finally, he stopped for the day, and turned to go. Desperation welled up inside of Belladonna, as she realized that he was once again refusing her water or food. Suddenly, she blurted,

"I am not Belladonna."

Blight turned towards her, eyes glinting almost curiously.

"I am worthless," she whimpered, flattening her belly to the ground. "You are the Master."

He simply stared for the shortest of moments, before smiling. "Good."

He padded away, but did not move the boulder, returning with a mouse and water-soaked moss, just as before. Just as before, she fell upon them quickly, although this time she did not eat the moss along with drinking the water. She gazed up at Blight as he hooked the dry moss with one claw, feeling gratefulness well up inside of her. Part of her, a part that was quickly finding itself buried, was disgusted. But the part of her that wanted to live knew that now Blight was the Master; he decided whether she lived or died. Everything was up to him now.

. . .

The assault of her identity continued on the fifth day, but this time she chanted along with Blight, repeating his words. This seemed to please him, for although the 'lesson' continued as long as it normally did, when he left he did not move the boulder, and she knew he was fetching the prey and water. Being fed two days in a row seemed to give her heart, and she managed to shakily drag herself towards the entrance to watch the Master return.

She saw him stride into camp with the prey and moss. This time, however, he stopped. She craned her neck, following his gaze, and saw Barb stride out of an identical den. The black tom was as muscular and well-fed as Blight, but his eyes were narrowed in anger.

"I want her," Barb hissed. Blight met his gaze coolly.

"What?" he growled.

"I broke my she-cat. This stupid plan you gave us was taking too long; I guessed I pressed her too far, because she died. She was too stubborn to break, but too weak to live. Yours, though…you broke her, didn't you? You knew she would be easier. You cheated me!" Barb's voice rose in anger, and Belladonna turned her gaze to Blight in fright, knowing that Barb had made a potentially fatal mistake.

Blight's eyes were narrowed in anger. "I cheated you out of nothing. You disobeyed orders, that is why she died! This she-cat is mine. You cannot have her."

Barb bared his fangs, and Blight let out another hiss, dropping both the moss and mouse. Belladonna's heart clenched, watching the water soak into the earth. Her gaze flicked back to Barb and Blight, and she blinked uncomprehendingly; Robin had been subjected to the same torture? Robin was…dead?

_No, _she thought, horror overwhelming her. She could tell from the mad look in Barb's eyes that if he fought Blight and won, the same deadly torture would reach her, worse than even Blight's treatment of her. Her only hope was that the Master won for her; that he protected her.

"You're making a mistake, I warn you," Blight snarled. "Back down, now, or I won't be responsible for what happens."

"Give her to me!" Barb yowled, and then to Belladonna's horror, slashed his claws over Blight's face. Blight drew back, spitting and snarling; Barb had slashed at Blight's eyes, but Belladonna could not tell if he had damaged the eye or not. Barb seemed to sense victory already at his paws, for he lunged forward, knocking Blight to the ground. Belladonna's throat clenched, threatening to choke her, as Barb raked his claws down Blight's side.

Then, quicker than Belladonna's dull mind could comprehend, Barb was suddenly the only lying on his side, with Blight's claws at his throat. One of Blight's golden eyes was closed, blood leaking out from under the closed eyelid.

"Traitor!" Blight snarled, overcome with rage. Belladonna trembled with terror as Blight swiped his claws over Barb's throat. The black tom choked, thrashing as his crimson blood pooled around him, but Blight continued to tear into his soft flesh, slicing deeply into his stomach and side. Finally, Barb was still, and Blight stopped moving for a moment, staring down at the blood on his claws. He took a step back, and let out another hiss of pain, drawing one paw to his injured eye. He opened it for a moment, and Belladonna caught sight of the ruined eye, its golden glow silenced, before he closed it again. Blight glanced at Belladonna for a moment, before padding out of camp.

He did not return for many hours, but Belladonna did not move, too transfixed by fear. Had Blight left? Or was he tending to his ruined eye, and returning soon? What new horrors awaited her at his paws now, now that any sanity he had clung onto was probably destroyed? And Robin…was Robin, her dear friend, truly dead?

Belladonna let out a moan, resting her muzzle against her paws. She began trembling with sorrow and anger, anger directed at Barb rather than Blight, for in some twisted way, Blight had lost his eye to save Belladonna.

"Robin," she whispered through her choked voice. "Oh, Robin!"

"Shut up," a low voice hissed. "Did I say you could speak?"

She raised her gaze from her paws to find that Blight had returned to camp. His one golden eye burned as he gazed at her, even brighter in the moon's soft light; the other eye was closed, although the fur underneath it was stained with dried blood.

"Get into the den," he ordered, and not daring to refuse, she managed to move back into it. She watched him fearfully, nearly jumping with surprise as he flung the mouse he had caught earlier towards her, along with new moss. She drank the moss first, greedily, before the precious liquid seeped into the ground. She tore into the mouse quickly, afraid he might still take it from her. As she ate, Blight slid the boulder back into place.

. . .

"This is your fault."

His words greeted her as she slowly rose into consciousness, rising from her sleep. Her stomach clenched in fear as she realized Blight had already removed the boulder, and was standing in front of her. She watched him, certain that he would start the reciting again, but he did not.

"This is your fault," he repeated again. "Robin's death is because of you."

_No, _she thought foggily. _No, it can't be. It's Barb's fault…isn't it?_

"You told me your dreams told you to leave Mother's home," he growled. "But you didn't tell Robin of your dreams, did you? She trusted you, but you let her down. You let Barb get her. You let him torture her. You let him kill her."

"No, no," she whispered. "No, not me."

"It's your fault." He began pacing. "But that's not all. Look what Barb did to me." He opened his ruined eye, and Belladonna recoiled in disgust, seeing the dull, shredded eye staring back at her. It was beginning to ooze sickly pus, mixing with the dried blood. "I lost my eye trying to protect you. You couldn't protect yourself. It was your fault!" His soft voice rose into a snarl, and Belladonna felt her strained bladder give way with fear. "It is your fault! You are guilty of this! Because of you, your best friend is dead! Because of you, your Master has lost an eye!"

He struck her with one paw, his claws sheathed, but the blow was enough to make her ears ring. She offered no resistance, lying on the ground weakly, waiting for him to continue. Instead, he began pacing again.

"If it was not for you, Robin would still be alive," he seethed. "If it was not for you, Scorch would be alive as well. If you had never come here, the Master would have never had to kill him. If you had never come here, the Master would have both eyes. If you had never come here, Barb would be alive. All of their deaths are on your paws. Yours and yours alone." He stopped pacing, and sneered down at her. "Look at you. You are pathetic. You are worthless. You don't even have the strength to defend yourself. If I had not saved you, you would be dead as well! You owe everything to your Master, don't you? Don't you!"

It was not a question, but she knew he wanted an answer. "I owe my life to the Master," she whimpered, trembling. "Everything."

"I could have died defending you." Blight drew down to eye-level with Belladonna, opening up his ruined eye once more, staring at her. "I could have died defending you, do you understand? Do you see how much I sacrificed, how lucky you are? You are lucky the Master cares for you still. You are weak, spineless, pathetic, and yet I have spared you. I have fought for you. I have sacrificed for you."

"I am grateful." Belladonna stared at him pleading. "Grateful."

Without warning, he suddenly turned and left the den, moving the boulder back.

. . .

The next day, the piling on of guilt continued. Blight attacked her with his words, telling her of how useless she was, of how all of her actions had led to Robin's death, and Blight's own loss. He told her of everything that was wrong with her again and again, drilling it into her skull just as he had that he was the Master, and that she was worthless, nobody, nothing. Even when he was gone, the words continued within her mind, crushing her spirit, her sense of…anything. She felt despair threaten to overtake her, like a dark tide, and she had no way to resist, no one to tell her that Blight was wrong, that she was not guilty, that she was _something._

And even more powerfully, even the tiny part of her that still hated Blight knew that it was true; that if she had told Robin of her dreams, considered her opinion, taken her advice, that Robin might still be alive. Belladonna might not be alone.

The third day was full of the same things, the same words, different phrases all boiling down to the same three points: she was guilty, she was nothing, and he was the only Master she had. While he fought her with guilt, again he refused to give her food or water, and the filthy corner was beginning to take over much of the den. She had nowhere to go, nothing to do during the dark hours that filled her days but ponder over his words, and feel the self-hatred well up inside of her. Before, the hatred had been directed towards Blight, then at herself for her weakness. Now it was directed at herself for everything; for her weakness, her guilt, the very cat that she had become. She was filled with self-loathing every waking moment, to the point where she could not remember feeling anything else for herself.

On the fourth day, the hunger and the thirst had clouded her mind again, to the point where the only thing to do was begin repeating Blight's words once more.

"It is my fault Robin is dead," she confessed. "It is my fault the Master was injured." Blight guided her through the rest of the day's words, with her mindlessly repeating them. At the end of the 'lesson', he returned with the promised food and water.

By finally audibly admitting the guilt, she found that it had not made things better, but worse. Now she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was guilty, just as she knew that there was no hope for her. For a soul as dark and horrible as she was, what hope of redemption was there? Blight had convinced her that she was _evil,_ the cause for so much pain and death. What could she do now? How could she hope to make up for this?

On the fifth day of the 'guilting', she again tonelessly repeated Blight's teachings, even following several lines without his help. Then, abruptly, in the middle of reciting the final line, she broke down. She began to tremble uncontrollably, shaking with the misery and horror of knowing who she was, what she had done, what she was responsible for. Blight watched her as ragged sounds escaped her, the howls of a maddened animal. He waited until the sounds slowly began to exhaust themselves, before leaving and returning with the usual food and water. He watched her eat, before replacing the boulder.

. . .

The next day, he came to her even earlier than usual. Her unsettled conscience was dimly aware of him even before she awoke; her mind was filled with nightmares, depriving her of sleep, leaving her that much more exhausted and open to Blight's systematic torture.

He was watching her with his single eye as she awoke. He did not speak, however, simply rose to his paws and flicked his tail at her, before padding out of the den. Puzzled, she did not move, until his face re-appeared in the den.

"Come," he growled. Nervously, she rose to his paws for the first time since she had been captured, and followed him out of the den. She flinched as she set her first paw outside, feeling the sun beating down on her fur and the slightest breeze caressing her face. She let out a sigh, but felt no happiness; a creature such as herself did not deserve the sunlight.

Blight led her to the corner of camp, and pointed his tail towards a bush. "Relieve yourself," he ordered.

Belladonna stared at him uncomprehendingly. She would be allowed to relieve herself, outside of the den?

His eye narrowed at her. "Unless you'd rather to continue doing it in your den?"

Slowly, she padded to the bush, and waited. The feeling of the grass against her paws, coupled with the knowledge that for the first time in weeks she did not have to defecate on her own den, filled her with a strange feeling of joy, pounding through her paws. When she reemerged, her eyes were shining with gratitude as she gazed upon Blight. The tiniest part of her, barely even alive anymore, knew that the heady rush of happiness and gratefulness from this single act didn't make any sense, but the rest of her did not care. This was an act of kindness, one directed from the Master to her unworthy self. She did not deserve it. She did not deserve him.

"Thank you," she murmured. He led her back to the den, fetched her food and water, and left.

. . .

The act of kindness followed her to her dreams, allowing her the first peaceful night that she had since she was captured. When she awoke, she was almost disappointed that Blight was not waiting for her, only for her heart to leap as he entered the den. She stared at him, but his gaze was almost gentle as he stared back. He sat down and wrapped his tail around his paws, as if studying her. The feelings of self-loathing returned, and she dropped his gaze, staring at her paws. A cat such as herself, one whose arrogance cost her friend her life, did not deserve his study.

"There is a possibility," he said softly. Belladonna did not look up. "There is a possibility that you could be helped."

At this, Belladonna's gaze shot to his face, only to drop down again. "How?"

"I can help you," he said gently. "I can help you relieve yourself of your evils. I can save you."

She realized she was trembling again. "I don't want to be evil," she mumbled. "I don't want this."

"I can't help you unless you help yourself," he continued. "You have to trust the Master."

"Of course," she meowed, glancing at him; not quite meeting his eyes, but staring at his chest. After all, hadn't he saved her from Barb? And he wanted to help her, even after all of the evil she had done to her friends and the others?

"Good. But I need to know: What are you ashamed of? Is there more than I know?"

She swallowed nervously. "The dreams…they were more than dreams. Sometimes I did…evil things. Awful things. Sometimes I…killed cats…they pleaded for me to stop, but I didn't…I couldn't…." She lowered her head in shame.

"I see," Blight said slowly, and fear struck through her. Was he reconsidering helping her? Did he think she wasn't worth it after all?

"Please," she blurted. "Please, I want to be good again."

"I know, pet, I know." His voice was gentle, almost consoling. "I will do whatever it takes to help you. The Master will not leave you, my dear. I'll never leave you. But are you really going to try?"

"Yes, yes! I'll do whatever you say!" Belladonna's eyes were wide, her heart pounding in her chest. She would do anything, anything to relieve these feelings of guilt and horror, anything to fix all that she had done wrong.

Without warning, he rose to his paws and left the den, returning with the usual before blocking the entrance.

. . .

"I think I know where the evil lies," he said the next day. Belladonna blinked at him eagerly.

"Where?"

"These dreams…you say you walked the forest in them? Caught prey? Killed cats? These dreams led you here, to the forest?" She nodded, and he smiled. "My pet, you never had a choice, did you? You had to follow the dreams. It is the dreams that were evil."

She stared at him, almost disbelievingly. She wasn't the real evil? It was the fault of these dreams?

"These dreams are what led you here," he continued. "These dreams are what made you leave the safety of your home and friends. These dreams are what made you fear to tell Robin; you were afraid of what she might think. I know where these dreams came from, Belladonna." He paused for a moment. "Where I come from, we once worshiped gods. These gods called themselves StarClan; they were the spirits of cats after they passed on. We revered them as being holy, but our leader showed us the truth. We were StarClan's playthings; they did what they liked with us, shaped us however they liked, and squashed us like bugs when we bored them. StarClan sent you these dreams. They tried to control and use you. We stopped worshipping them, and they could do nothing to us, so they turned to you instead. They tried controlling you. StarClan is where the evil lies."

His words fell into her waiting ears, and she absorbed them almost as greedily as how she drank the water he brought her.

"StarClan is evil," she echoed. "They are where the evil lies."

"Precisely, pet," he purred. "StarClan is the reason that Robin is dead. You didn't have a choice, did you? The dreams tormented you when you were sleeping, followed you even when you were waking. They brought an urge with them, a terrible desire to do as the dreams commanded. You never had a choice, darling. It was over for Robin the moment you had your first dream, the moment StarClan turned their attentions towards you."

She nodded. "I didn't have a choice," she repeated. "I never had a choice."

Then, Blight did something unexpected; he brushed his tail over her flank. She flinched away from his touch; it was the first time he had made contact with her since the beatings, already so many days ago. He rose to his paws, left, returned, and left again.

. . .

"Whose fault was it?" he asked the next day.

"StarClan's," she answered, as she had already several times that day. "I never had a choice."

He nodded. "Exactly. StarClan placed you on this path to evil. Make no mistake; the guilt still lies with you. But the evil lies with them, and the difference is immense."

"What do I do?" she asked. "How do I make the evil go away? How do I make StarClan leave me alone?"

"Have they visited you since you came here?" he asked. She thought about it, and found that the days she had been here had become a blur, all lumped in together. The pain, the thirst, the guilt, the hunger…those feelings seemed to have soaked into every day. And her nights…they had been dreamless or filled with nightmares, no in-between. She had not walked in the forest again.

"No."

He nodded slowly. "StarClan is afraid of my power," he explained. "They know the Master has taken you under his wing. They know I am exposing their evils to you, showing you how wrong they are. They know that they have no chance of controlling you now…." He trailed off thoughtfully, and regarded her for a moment. "Or, do they? Could StarClan still manipulate you?"

"No, no," Belladonna said quickly. "I won't let StarClan control me anymore!"

"So you're renouncing them?"

She nodded. "I never want StarClan to be with my dreams again. I don't want anything to do with them. I will never follow them!"

He sighed softly. "That is very good, pet. However…it might not be up to you. StarClan is strong, very strong. They overpowered you before. They could do it again."

Fear clenched her heart. "W-what do I do? I don't want StarClan's evil to taint me again!"

"Relax, pet," he said softly. "I am the Master; the Master always looks after his followers. So long as you are with me, I swear I shall protect you for them. But, if you ever leave me…they might get you again." His golden eye burned into her. "You'll never leave me, will you?"

Her own eyes locked onto his. "No. Never. I will never leave my Master."

He smiled at her. "Excellent."

Again, she slept peacefully.

. . .

"You have completely renounced StarClan, have you not?" he asked, and was answered by her quick nod. "And you are loyal to your Master." He waited for her second nod. "But that isn't enough, my pet. You are loyal to me, but I am loyal to others. Eventually I will have to leave this place and continue on my mission; in fact, I should have left yesterday. But I did not, my dear, because of you. You aren't relieved of your guilt yet. You still feel it, do you not?"

She nodded; the guilt and loathing still weighed on her feeble heart like a stone. Only when Blight soothed her with his words of hope did the burden lessen, but only slightly.

"My master is named Slaughter; he has great plans," Blight continued. "There are still some cats who follow StarClan, you know. They are my enemies. They are Slaughter's enemies. He is my Master, just as I am yours. Therefore, he is your Master as well. Slaughter is going to wipe out the StarClan-lovers for good. But he needs your help, pet, and mine. Soon we will return to him. I know you are loyal to me. But are you loyal to him as well? Are you loyal to our cause, our fight against StarClan itself?"

Belladonna blinked, and swallowed. "You are fighting against StarClan?"

He nodded. "We are disgusted with StarClan's evil and the evil of its followers. We are the good, the shining light. We will save others like yourself, too. I know it has been hard on you, my pet, but is it not worth it, to be relieved of your guilt? Don't you want this? If you side with me, if you pledge your loyalty to myself and my Master, the guilt will be gone. You will be on the side of good. You will _be_ good. And Robin's spirit will rest easy, knowing that you are on the right path again. Isn't that what you want?"

Belladonna hesitated only for the briefest moment, but Blight's golden eye lulled her. He made her feel safe; he protected her from StarClan, she knew it to be true. They had not plagued her once since her capture – no, since she joined him. He was the only thing standing between her and the evil spirits. So she knew he had to be the good.

"I swear I will join you," she meowed, her voice strong for the first time in weeks. "I will join you and give you all of my power. I will follow you, my Master, and my Master's Master, in order to bring down the evils of StarClan. I will do whatever it takes to stop them. I will become…good."

Blight rose to his paws and flicked his tail, leading her out of the den. He stood in the center of camp – Barb's body had long since been removed – and raised his muzzle towards the sun.

"I, Blight, witness the opening of a new follower!" he yowled. "This she-cat has pledged her life to her Master and my own Master, to bring down StarClan! With the power vested in me by my own Master, I give this follower a new name! When she was plagued by StarClan's evils and the taint of guilt, she was known as Belladonna! She will be Belladonna no longer. Now, she will be…Nightshade!"

Belladonna stood, frozen, as Blight licked her muzzle. "You are one of us now," he said, his golden eye soft as he looked at her. And, suddenly, Belladonna felt her old self fall away, like an old skin, all of the guilt and loathing falling from her bones with the sound of her new name. She felt her heart pound in her chest, and she closed her eyes for a single moment. When she opened them, it was as if the world had been born again; she saw the blueness of the sky, the brightness of the sun, the beautiful gold in Blight's single eye, and all that her Master had given up for her. She licked his muzzle in return, and smiled, knowing that she had finally done it, finally overcome all that StarClan had placed in her path.

_I am good._

**. N i g h t s h a d e .**

She opened her eyes slowly, thinking of the night before, where she and her Master had finally become one. She had not fought back – why would she? – as the joy of his love had overcome her. She felt him shift beside her now, in his sleep, mumbling to himself. She drank in his scent, the scent of purity; in this den there was no dirt or filth to cloud her mind, only the scent of her Master, the tom that had saved her from all of the evil inside of her. Thanks to him, she was now good, purified, ready to help others in their quest against StarClan.

She peered out of the den entrance, unblocked by a boulder or any other obstacle, and saw the stars glittering above her. She let out a hiss, feeling hatred towards them, loathing. But now, the loathing was not directed towards herself, but directed towards them, the cold gods in the skies that played with their cats until they were broken.

_It was my fault Robin died, _she thought, _but I will avenge her now. Upon my new name, Nightshade, I swear it: I will have StarClan's blood on my claws._

**AN: Alright. This story isn't getting much interest, pure and simple. It isn't just the reviews – although those concern me most – but the other story stats as well. I understand that this is an original-character story, not one with our lovely canon characters. That makes sense. But this lil story has been my brain-baby for some time now, and I don't want it going sour because I'm permanently in a grumpy mood. These reviews – small in numbers as well as words – honestly bring me down. "Great chapter update" doesn't mean anything when you say every chapter is great. I won't update any faster just because you told me to; it doesn't work that way. I'm not trying to be whiny – which is probably how I'm coming off, and if so I'm sorry – but I need motivation to write, along with the joy of writing itself. **

**In short, if this doesn't pick up within this chapter and the next, I'll put this on the back-burner and move on. The quality of my writing has decreased over the last few chapters because I'm discouraged; I'm not going to ruin the rest of the story because I'm down in the dumps. If you guys really do like this story, then please review. Tell me what you like about it. Tell me what you didn't. Tell me what I could improve. Tell me what I did well. Just tell me something that **_**means **_**something, not just how "great" this chapter was, and how I need to update immediately. **

**Thanks.**

**I've got a lot to say about this chappy, so look at the blog; hopefully I'll have time to update it~**


	21. C h a p t e r 20

**AN: *sniffle* Wow, guys, you really pulled through on that one. I can't remember the last time I've seen so many long, heart-felt reviews! You really cheered me up! Let's just hope it continues, right? ^^ **

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**20**

Silverstreak blinked, coming around slowly. Immediately, she sat up, as the events of the day before returned to her mind. She glanced at Forest, sleeping soundly. Careful not to wake him, she rose to her paws slowly and padded to the entrance of the den, peering out. She blinked, surprised to find that Frostfeather was already awake. She was lying in the sunlight on her side, allowing it to warm her round belly. Silverstreak hesitated, before approaching. Frostfeather's green eyes opened as she neared.

"Morning," Frostfeather greeted her, her voice a low purr.

"Morning," Silverstreak meowed, before sitting down next to her friend. She resisted the urge to shuffle her paws; despite their warm reunion, there was still tension between them; it was subtle, and low-key, but it was still there.

"So," she meowed slowly, "how are…um, you? And…them?" She gestured with her paw towards Frostfeather's stomach.

"Fine," Frostfeather answered lazily. "They've been a little active lately, but that just means their healthy. I've been telling Death plenty about them, I think they freak him out." She and Silverstreak let out purrs of amusement in unison, and glanced at each other.

"He's determined, at least," Silverstreak said with a slight chuckle. "I'm sure he'll win you over eventually."

"No tom has managed that yet, and certainly not a scrawny specimen like him."

"I don't know," Silverstreak said thoughtfully. "He's filled out quite a bit since I last saw him; he's with you all the time, you probably didn't notice."

"I wouldn't say that." Frostfeather shot Silverstreak a mischievous glance, and Silverstreak couldn't help but _mrrow _in amusement. "Buck has him pulling his own weight now, at least," Frostfeather continued. "He's a miserable hunter and a worse fighter, but he's trying to learn. Probably to impress me so we can run away together into the sunset and live happily ever after." She turned slightly, moving her belly closer towards the sky, letting out a sign of contentment. Her eyes closed for a moment, before opening again to stare at Silverstreak. "So, what about the injured tom? Forest, right?"

Silverstreak returned Frostfeather's sharp gaze cautiously. "What do you mean?"

"You know…are you and Forest….?" Frostfeather wiggled her whiskers, and Silverstreak couldn't help but laugh.

"No, no," she said quickly, ignoring the memory of Forest's intense gaze as he declared his loyalty to the new Clan. "No. We're friends. I mean, he's very loyal to me, since I saved him…but we're not…."

"If you're not going to take him, I might," Frostfeather purred with a wink. "Once I have the kits, of course…and providing that we don't run into Brightfire again, I suppose…although I doubt he'll really mind."

Silverstreak was surprised by the strength of feeling that rushed forward at Frostfeather; it was almost an anger, and the feeling made her stomach twist itself into a knot. She swallowed down the feeling, and glanced away from Frostfeather.

"Whoa, wait a minute." Frostfeather sat up. "What was that look for, huh? What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," Silverstreak mumbled. "I'm going to, um, hunt. Since we'll have a lot of mouths to feed soon." She knew it was a low blow, but at that moment she couldn't sit still. Without another word to Frostfeather, she rose to her paws and padded into the forest, following the river. She wandered aimlessly, uncertain as to where her paws were leading her. She came to a stop as she realized she had gone farther than she intended; the formation atop which PeakClan lived loomed ahead of her, just on the other side of the river. With the sight of it came troubling thoughts. There were too many cats now to easily hide from even PeakClan. And with Northstar on the lookout for any rogue to brutalize to the edge of death….

She blinked suddenly, seeing a dark shape, almost a shadow, slip into the water. Despite the strong current, the cat swum strongly, making it to the next bank without trouble. Silverstreak tensed, only to relax as she saw the flash of blue eyes, contrasting sharply with the blaze of white on his chest.

"Blackmoon!" she greeted him, running towards him. He stopped in surprise, staring at her.

"Silverstreak? Are you alright?" he asked. "You seem troubled. Did Forest….?"

"No, Forest's fine!" she purred, before her eyes darkened, remembering her conversation with Frostfeather. Of course, Blackmoon didn't know that Frostfeather was there either, along with the rest of them. She blinked suddenly, realizing something; Blackmoon might be conflicted about helping her, especially when he learned that the new BirchClan cats were going to take some of PeakClan's territory. It would mean hard times for PeakClan if they succeeded, and surely loss of life even if they did not.

Did she dare tell him?

She blinked, suddenly realizing that Blackmoon's own blue eyes were troubled. "What's wrong with you?" she asked. "Did something happen?"

Blackmoon's shoulders slumped. "I find myself carrying a heavy burden," he said softly. "Yes, something happened within my Clan. But I cannot say; it is a delicate matter, and the feelings are still raw…please understand that I hold you in the highest regard, and it isn't that I don't trust you, simply that this is a matter for my own Clan to settle."

"I understand," Silverstreak dipped her head respectfully. "I'm sorry. I was worried about you yesterday, when you didn't show up. I assume whatever event it was prevented you? Are you conflicted about helping us? I think Forest will be okay, I can probably take care of him now."

Blackmoon's head bowed. "I'm glad…I was coming to tell you that I couldn't help you anyway."

Silverstreak blinked with surprise. "Is what happened really so terrible?"

"I'm afraid so. I wasn't there when a Clanmate needed me, and she…." He closed his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. "She was close to our leader, and the Clan is shaken; her death was meaningless, and it means danger for her kits. The Clan is looking to me for guidance now; I don't know why."

Silverstreak rested her tail against his shoulder. "Because of your loyalty to the code, I'm sure," she mewed gently, "or perhaps your strong spirit, and kind heart. You're a good cat, Blackmoon, loyal to your Clan."

"And yet I helped a rogue survive in our own borders…." Blackmoon shook his head wearily. "It's a moot point either way, but I'm glad Forest is well. Give him my regards and sincerest apologies." He glanced towards the rock formation where PeakClan lay. "I must return, I'm sorry; the Clan's eyes are on me, and they'll grow suspicious if I'm away for too long. Goodbye, Silverstreak; may we meet again in the stars."

Silverstreak nodded, watching as Blackmoon padded back into the fierce water, swimming strongly to the other side. Only as she watched him climb to the opposite bank, did she remember Reedrush. She was supposed to come to camp that day, in the den Jag had dug out for her, along with Blitz; she would be confused when she saw the others, perhaps even frightened…what if Jag attacked them? The memory of him ambushing Slaughter's scouts sent a chill through her. She rose to her paws, and darted back to camp.

Sure enough, a bewildered Jag and Reedrush, with Blitz in her jaws, hovered near the edge of camp. Eaglestrike was speaking to them, and he turned as Silverstreak returned.

"How did your hunting go?" Frostfeather asked, and Silverstreak was reminded of her lie to Forest earlier. Ignoring the snide white queen, she smiled at Reedrush.

"Reedrush, I'm glad to see you made it across," she purred. "Blitz is getting big!"

Reedrush nodded, making Blitz bounce in her jaws. He let out a complaining mewl, and Silverstreak let out a purr, only to blink in surprise as she realized Blitz's eyes were open, although he was staring ahead sightlessly. His eyes were still a milky blue, the same as all newborn kittens; his eyes would either change to blue or green, depending on his father; gold or amber would have already shown, as it was usually easy to tell. His eyes had probably been open for several days by now.

"Have you all introduced yourselves?" she asked, sweeping her sharp gaze over the group. They nodded, and she spotted a flicker of movement in Forest's den; the glitter of green eyes told her that he was awake and listening as well.

"Well, Jag, Reedrush, it seems we've kind of assembled…so, I was wondering if you were joining our Clan? Do you think Ash led you here?"

Reedrush was silent for a moment. Then, her green eyes flashed, and her jaw clenched with determination. "I think we're supposed to be here," she meowed. "We're supposed to join you…or at least Blitz and I are." She turned to Jag. "And you?" she asked softly.

Jag took his time answering. Finally, he gave Reedrush a shy lick on the back of her ear. "I'm too fond of you two to leave," he rumbled in his usual gruff tone. "I guess I'll be joining as well."

Silverstreak felt her face split in a grin. "Excellent!" she purred, the pleased noise tickling her throat.

_They'll need new names…or at least Jag and Blitz will, _she thought. She glanced over the rest of the group. _So will Shimmer, Death, and Buck…and Forest, I suppose, although I don't know if he'll consent. They'll need to learn the warrior code before they do anything, though, I suppose. But when can they learn this? _

She frowned. How many cats were there now? She counted quickly. _Shimmer, Buck, Eaglestrike, Jag, Reedrush, Blitz, Forest, Frostfeather, Ravenwing, Death, myself, Frostfeather's kits…eleven of us right now, and there will be more once Frostfeather has her kits. How can we possibly hide so many cats? And now that Blackmoon won't be with us, he can't warn us if they're patrolling here, or tell us where they won't be patrolling….It's a conundrum. We can't move Forest without risking injury to his leg, although he gets better every day._

"We'll need to split up," she said finally. "We can't all be in the same place, or PeakClan will be suspicious of us."

Eaglestrike nodded in agreement. "Will we scatter over the territory?"

She shook her head. "That just makes it more likely that they'll attack us; if we occupy more area, they'll probably find at least a few of us. And some of us need the prey we have right here; Frostfeather should stay, and Forest obviously cannot be moved. I think Reedrush and Blitz should stay as well, and possibly Shimmer."

Buck cocked his head to one side. "And the rest of us? Ravenwing, Eaglestrike, Jag, Death, and myself?"

"Is there any way you could stay in the Twolegplace?" Silverstreak wondered. "I know it's dangerous, but with a big, strong group no cats will attack you. Try to find Mitch, or Tasha; they're friends of mine, they might be able to help you."

Jag glanced at Reedrush, and Silverstreak knew he was worried about the silver tabby. "I'll watch out for her," she assured the muscular tom. He gave her a relieved glance.

"Can you hunt for all of us?" Frostfeather wondered. "You seem to be coming up empty often." Her eyes glittered, and Silverstreak knew she must have been talking to Forest.

"I'm sure I can manage; Reedrush can help too, Blitz won't need to be eating all the time." The green-eyed tabby nodded her agreement.

"We'll have to stay in this area," Silverstreak continued, "because Forest can't be moved yet…but I think Reedrush should make her distance several fox-lengths away, and use a different area for making her dirt so it doesn't seem suspicious. Shimmer, can you stay with Reedrush? I think it would be easier for Forest."

Shimmer's jaw clenched stubbornly. "Nah," she answered defiantly. "Me stay wid chu."

Silverstreak blinked in surprise; she hadn't counted on resistance from the young kit. "Shimmer, if you're going to join the Clan, you'll be apprenticed in a moon," she said sternly. "That means you have to listen to the older warriors. We know what we're doing, we'll take care of you."

"No," Shimmer repeated. Her blue eyes dropped to her dainty paws. "You…you look like Mudder. Me feels…safer." She shuffled her paws awkwardly, but Silverstreak's heart melted. She had forgotten that the young kit had lost her mother, after being chased by some shadowy force that frightened Shimmer too much to speak of it. If she was willing to acknowledge her feelings, they must be strong.

"Fine," she decided, "we'll enlarge the den and you can help me gather herbs for Forest."

Shimmer's ears pricked. "Me likes herbs!" she chirped, sounding excited rather than icy. Silverstreak glanced at Ravenwing questioningly.

"She helped me gather them a few times; Death pulled a claw and I had to find borage for Frostfeather," Ravenwing explained. "She's got a knack for it, at least when you treat it like a bit of a game."

"I was hunting for Frostfeather," Death mewed, sounding piteous as he raised one paw. She noticed it was bound with cobwebs. Ravenwing rolled her eyes.

"I told him he'd be fine, but he wanted to play it up," she laughed.

"She-cats aren't impressed by weakness," Buck growled, and Death flushed with embarrassment.

"When should we move?" Eaglestrike asked. Silverstreak glanced at the sky; it was nearly sunhigh.

"As soon as possible, I think," she admitted. "I just met with Blackmoon, and apparently there was an incident with one of PeakClan's queens. I don't know what happened, but it's possible they were attacked, perhaps by Snake. If so, PeakClan will be on high-alert for any enemy movement, and that includes us. We should be proactive about this."

The others nodded in agreement. "We'll set off soon," Eaglestrike promised. "Ravenwing, Buck, let's hunt a bit before we go; we'll need full bellies for everyone, in case it takes us awhile to learn where the prey is in Twolegplace." He turned to Silverstreak. "When will we see each other again?"

"Twolegplace isn't far away, only a few hours," Frostfeather remarked. "It wouldn't take long to meet and come back."

"Perhaps every phase of the moon?" Ravenwing suggested. "That's not long, and it's easy to keep track of. If things become too dangerous, we can adjust accordingly."

"And when will we come back?" Death asked, his fur ruffled. "I don't like Twolegplace, it's rough there."

"When things with PeakClan calm down, I guess," Silverstreak decided, "or perhaps when we have a plan of action. We'll need to declare ourselves eventually…see if you guys can recruit any cats while you're there, too, okay? We'll need every cat we can find if we're going to fight PeakClan for their territory. I hope it doesn't come to that, but unless we've got a strong force to back ourselves up, they won't think twice."

"One good thing about them having no enemies is that they're lazy and soft," Jag observed. "We saw a patrol earlier, and they might as well have been kittypets. There may be a lot of them, but a smaller force could hold their own against them."

"Also, keep your heads low," Reedrush meowed. "This Slaughter cat is on the lookout for Clan cats, remember? Don't advertise who you are except to cats that you really think will join if given the chance. Otherwise you might be exposed, and hurt. It isn't very far from Twolegplace to the mountains, only a few days journey."

"Let's go," Eaglestrike meowed, flicking his tail to Ravenwing and Buck. The three of them padded into the forest, disappearing from sight. The group dissolved, each cat going towards the cats they were most comfortable with. Silverstreak noticed the division – Death went to Frostfeather, while Jag, Reedrush, and Blitz huddled together – and felt uncomfortable. Such differences were common in Clans, but the new Clan would desperately need unity if they were going to claim their own territory.

With a soft sigh, she padded forward, towards Forest's den.

"Feeling left out?" she asked with a gentle smile as she entered. Forest laughed quietly.

"Just a bit," he purred, flashing her a crooked grin. "Listen, about earlier…."

Silverstreak's pelt prickled, but her face didn't change. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry if I made it a little awkward." Forest glanced down at his brown paws. "It honestly wasn't my intention. Like I said, it's been a long time since I've really talked to any cats, let alone she-cats…and of course, none of them as pretty as you." He grinned at her teasingly, and Silverstreak couldn't help but laugh.

"Death could take a few lessons from you in wooing Frostfeather," she chuckled. "He seems to be a little inept about it."

Forest nodded. "I seem to be getting that vibe from him." He stared out of the den, studying the gathered cats. "Ravenwing and Frostfeather are exactly as you described," he said after a moment, "and I know Eaglestrike is a good cat, if he was raised like your brother. But Buck and Death? Are you sure they're good as well?"

"Death's harmless enough; don't let the name fool you, it's really more like a joke. And Buck…well, I'm not sure about him, but Eaglestrike's usually a good reader of cats. If he says Buck's alright, then I believe him."

"It's quite an interesting Clan you're gathering," Forest meowed. He yawned, resting his head on his paws. "When do you think I'll be hunting again?"

"I'm not sure," Silverstreak admitted. "I'll have Ravenwing take a look at you, okay? She was almost a medicine cat, until—"

"You told me," Forest interrupted. "She left the medicine cat thing for Eaglestrike so she wouldn't have to break the warrior code. I guess that's noble, but I don't really know." He let out a slight chuckle.

Silverstreak simply nodded, not sure what else to say. "Very noble, by Clan standards; giving up what you want to be, a medicine cat, for the love of your life, rather than blink the warrior code…other medicine cats tried to hide their love rather than give up their duties, but it almost always came back to haunt them, especially the females. Ravenwing didn't even consider that path, though….Eaglestrike is all that matters to her."

Forest nodded slowly. "I see," he meowed. "I hope…I hope I can find someone for myself like that, I suppose. Someone that matters more to me than anything." He was quiet for a moment, still looking at his paws, and Silverstreak felt a pang of sympathy. It must have been a lonely life, in the forest on his own, especially since he had once lived with so many cats. Did he miss his old home? Did he miss his parents, ever?

She rested her tail against his side. "I'm sure you will."

He glanced at her, and smiled. "Look at me, making everything awkward again," he remarked with a light laugh. "Again, I apologize. I suppose Eaglestrike, Buck and Ravenwing will be here again soon, and Jag will be leaving; you should talk to him while you wait, since it will be several days before you see him again."

She nodded once more, rising to her paws. She glanced at Forest a last time, before padding out of the den.

Jag was speaking quietly to Reedrush while they watched Blitz stumble around on unsteady paws. He fell down every few moments, but nothing seemed to discourage him, even the fact that he could not yet see. Silverstreak was just sitting down beside them when she heard the rustle of brush. Turning, she relaxed as she saw Ravenwing's bright eyes. Prey was clutched in her jaw; she was as good a hunter as ever. Eaglestrike and Buck appeared, also with prey, which they set in the center of the clearing. Quickly, all the cats that were leaving selected a piece, and sat down to eat. Taking an older piece of prey that Jag had caught before, Silverstreak settled down with them. Frostfeather looked as if she was considering moving, before letting out a quiet sigh and settling for resting her head on her paws. Silverstreak glanced at her, wondering at her lethargy, before taking a bite of her prey.

Frostfeather suddenly let out a gasp. Glancing at her, Silverstreak's eyes widened at the pool slowly gathering around Frostfeather. Frostfeather's eyes were wide with terror, and she suddenly let out another gasp, this one of pain.

Ravenwing was instantly on her paws.

"Eaglestrike, help me carry her to the den Eaglestrike dug last night for us Reedrush and Blitz," she ordered. "Reedrush, take Blitz and Shimmer into the den Jag dug for you. The rest of you, wait out here, you'll only be in my way."

"Silverstreak," Frostfeather whimpered, struggling to her paws.

"I'm here," Silverstreak meowed immediately, moving quickly to her friend's side, allowing the queen to lean on her. Eaglestrike padded to her other side, supporting her, and they led her to the den Eaglestrike had dug for them to sleep in earlier. It was large and spacious, to accommodate so many cats.

"We'll need leaves to soak up the blood," Ravenwing meowed, taking charge, surprising Silverstreak with her forcefulness.

"Can I help?" a wavering voice asked. Silverstreak glanced over her shoulder and blinked, surprised to see Death. He had a paralyzing fear of kits, she knew.

"I-I am worried about Frostfeather," Death mumbled. He was shaking like a leaf, and avoiding looking at Frostfeather's rippling hindquarters. "C-c-can I help?"

Silverstreak's ears flattened in sympathy; the coming kits had reduced the skinny tom to a bundle of nerves.

"I need leaves, and fast," Ravenwing meowed. "Thick ones."

"There are some burdock nearby, they'll do," Silverstreak meowed. "Find Jag and ask him to help you find them. Hurry back, Frostfeather is depending on you," she added, knowing it would comfort him. Death's golden eyes flashed with determination, and he nodded, disappearing out of the den.

Frostfeather let out a whimper of pain, and Silverstreak's gaze flicked down to her; Frostfeather wasn't the kind to fuss about pain. If she was making noise, it must be very painful.

"I'm scared," Frostfeather whispered, her green eyes wide and panicked as she stared into her friend's face.

"I'm here, Frostfeather," Silverstreak mewed in a soothing tone, brushing her tail over Frostfeather's muzzle. "Death will be here soon with the leaves."

"He has…more guts than I would have thought," the white queen replied with a weak laugh. "Not so useless…after all…." She was short of breath as her body fought itself, trying to force the kits out.

"Push, Frostfeather," Ravenwing ordered. "Push! Where are those leaves?" Ravenwing looked towards the entrance, but Death and Jag had not returned. Worry creased Ravenwing's muzzle, but she didn't show it as she returned her gaze to her sister. "Just relax, Frostfeather, you'll be fine and curled up around your kits before you know it. Just push!"

Frostfeather nodded wearily, as her side rippled again.

"Hey!" Death's shout made them turn. Silverstreak felt some of the tension leave her as she saw his mouth was stuffed full of the thick, glossy leaves.

"Just drop them," Ravenwing meowed. Death did so, and Ravenwing scooped up a pawful, moving them underneath Frostfeather to soak up the birth-blood. Death looked pale under his dark fur, and his legs trembled. Glancing at Frostfeather's shaking body, Silverstreak rose to her paws and padded towards Death, brushing her tail against his flank.

"You can wait outside, if you want," she said slowly, carefully. "Frostfeather will be okay, you've done all you need to, understand? I'm sure she'll thank you when she's finished, okay?"

Death swallowed. "I-I said I would be there for her," he meowed. "I promised myself I would, that I wouldn't be…a-afraid…." He trailed off, his yellow eyes glowing with misery at his own weakness. Silverstreak felt a stirring of pity for the dark tom. _He isn't strong enough yet to face his fears, even for Frostfeather, _she thought sadly. She nosed his shoulder.

"It's okay, you're just not ready to face this yet. Frostfeather and the kits aren't going anywhere; you'll have plenty of time to work your way towards overcoming your fear, okay? I promise Frostfeather won't think less of you. I'm sure she's very grateful for your help already." Frostfeather let out a wail, making Silverstreak flinch. Death swayed on his paws, and his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"I…I'll wait outside," he mumbled, slinking out of the den with his head low in shame. Silverstreak padded back to Frostfeather's side.

"He didn't pass out, did he?" Frostfeather panted. Silverstreak couldn't help but smile, despite her worry; even now, Frostfeather could try to keep her in high spirits. Silverstreak suddenly felt a rush of affection for the white she-cat, washing over the ill feelings from their fight and conversation that morning.

"He's fine. Just focus, okay? I want to have some beautiful little kits for our new Clan," she purred, licking Frostfeather's ear.

"I'll do what I can," Frostfeather murmured, letting out another whimper of pain. "Just don't leave, okay?"

Silverstreak laid down, resting her muzzle against Frostfeather's. "I promise, I'll never walk out on you guys again. Nothing can come between us."

Frostfeather's muzzle curled into a gentle smile.

. . .

The kitting was long, drawn-out, and slow. Ravenwing was on edge, her pelt prickling with nervousness, but to her credit she only encouraged Frostfeather, urging her to push. The first kit appeared, a striking ginger; there was no doubt he or she was Brightfire's kin. The second kit bore Jaywing's coloring, being a soft gray. Only time would tell if the two kits would follow their noble fathers' pawsteps, but as Silverstreak gazed down at Frostfeather, curled around her two kits, she was certain the white queen would raise them in their fathers' images.

Ravenwing examined the two kits, taking her time. "Both healthy," she purred, finally, and Silverstreak let out a breath of relief, her shoulders slumping as the tension left her.

"The ginger is a she-cat, and very healthy; she's large, too," Ravenwing continued. "The little gray one is a tom; he's a little small for what I would expect, but these kits are a little early, so I'm sure he'll be fine." Her brow furrowed in worry. "I hadn't thought about the kits, though, when we were making our plans; shouldn't I stay behind, to watch over them?"

"You can't be separate from Eaglestrike again, for so long," Silverstreak meowed firmly. "I'll take care of the kits, trust me. You can give me the knowledge of what I'll need to give them while they're young, and if anything really happens I can come find you, it isn't far. Shimmer can help me gather herbs."

Ravenwing nodded, letting out a sigh. "They're beautiful, sis, really," she licked Frostfeather's shoulder. "Any names picked out?"

Frostfeather was gazing down at her kits, love glowing in her eyes. When Ravenwing licked her, it was almost as if she had snapped out of a trance. She blinked at Ravenwing, her eyes clearing. "What?"

Silverstreak smiled to herself; she had never seen that level of tenderness directed at a tom before, let alone kits. She was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Frostfeather would be an excellent mother. Perhaps being a mother might even soften Frostfeather; toms would definitely be hard to come by for moons to come, and the kits might push Frostfeather away from her flirtatious ways.

"Names," she prompted, and Frostfeather nodded slowly.

"I had been planning to name them after their fathers, if they looked like them," she admitted, "since they were both good cats. I think I will still name the gray one Jaykit. However, Brightfire is still alive, and now perhaps on the side of the enemy…although I think he might try and find us. Either way, Brightkit doesn't seem quite right for this little girl." She gave the she-kit a nuzzle. "I'm not sure what to name her."

"Think on it," Silverstreak advised. "I'll go share the good news, okay? They'll probably all want to see the kits before they go."

"Tomorrow, maybe," Frostfeather yawned. "I'm too tired to entertain any visitors right now.

"Alright, we'll let you sleep," she replied. She gave her friend another affectionate lick, before rising to her paws and following Ravenwing out of the den.

Death rose to his paws as they left, but Ravenwing blocked his way.

"She doesn't want to be bothered by another," Ravenwing warned, "she just needs some rest. She can talk to you later, tomorrow. You all can leave in the morning, it is too late now."

Silverstreak looked up at the sky, and realized it was true; the sun was sinking towards the horizon.

She could feel eyes upon her, as the gathered cats waited for an update. Realizing she didn't have a vantage point from which to stand and speak, she simply contented herself with raising her muzzle to spread her voice.

"Frostfeather's kitting went well, although it was long," she yowled. "She has given us two healthy kits; one is a male, Jaykit. The other is a female, and is still unnamed. She wishes to rest, and so if anyone wants to visit her, they can in the morning before Eaglestrike's group leaves for the Twolegplace."

The cats murmured their assent, and Silverstreak retreated to the den she shared with Forest; the cats would have to figure out where to sleep for themselves, with Frostfeather taking up all of one den, and the other only intended for Jag, Reedrush, and Blitz.

Forest's ears pricked as she entered. "I could barely hear you out there, but I assume everything is okay? You look happy."

Silverstreak nodded. "The kits are beautiful and strong; they'll be safe with Frostfeather."

"I'm glad," he purred, and Silverstreak nodded.

"I'm exhausted, honestly, so sorry; I'm going right to sleep," she meowed. Forest nodded, resting his head on his paws, and Silverstreak copied him. Within moments, lulled by his steady breathing, she drifted off.

. . .

She awoke early the next morning, shaken from sleep by the noises of camp as cats came and went. Buck, Jag, and Eaglestrike were hunting so the group would be energized when they left.

Silverstreak found Death hovering by the entrance to the makeshift nursery. He avoided Silverstreak's gaze as she approached.

"Something wrong?" she inquired.

"I can't do it," he mumbled, downcast. "I can hear them moving around, you know? And they're mewling and drinking, and it's…." He shuddered. "I can't go in."

Silverstreak's eyes softened. "It's okay, Death. She won't be angry with you, or anything. She'll understand."

"And we'll be back soon, right? I can see her later, when the k-k-k…the little things are bigger?"

Silverstreak nodded. "I promise, you can see her when you're ready and it's safe."

Death dipped his head to her, and sat down at the entrance, gazing up at the sky with a far-away look in his golden eyes. Silverstreak felt a pang of pity; what she had thought was Death's flirtatious ways or a little crush might actually be deeper.

Looking away from him, she padded into the den. Frostfeather's eyes were closed and her head on her paws, but she looked up as Silverstreak entered the den.

"Good morning," Silverstreak purred.

"Have anything for me to eat?" Frostfeather asked hopefully.

"No, but Eaglestrike, Buck, and Jag are out hunting," she answered. "I expect Eaglestrike will have caught something for you. If not, I will; you're not going anywhere."

Frostfeather nodded with a yawn, resting her head again.

"Any ideas for the ginger kit's name yet?" Silverstreak wondered. Frostfeather shook her head.

"I thought about Foxkit, Firekit, Flamekit…but none of them really seem right for her." Frostfeather frowned. "I'm not really sure what to name her, honestly."

"Mind if we enter?" a pleasant voice asked. Silverstreak glanced over her shoulder, and smiled as she saw Eaglestrike and Buck in the entrance.

"Sure, come in…did you bring me anything?" Frostfeather asked with a smile. Eaglestrike set down a fat robin at her paws.

"Eat up," he purred, taking a step back. "The kits are beautiful, Frostfeather. Still no name for the ginger one?"

Frostfeather shook her head again. Eaglestrike frowned, looking thoughtful.

"What about Robinkit?" Buck rumbled. Frostfeather blinked at him.

"That was the name of one of your friends, right?" she asked. He nodded.

"Robin was – is – a sweet cat. She's very kind, and honest, as well as loyal. She would follow Belladonna anywhere, even into the forest."

Frostfeather mirrored Eaglestrike's thoughtful expression. "Robinkit," she murmured, and then smiled. "Yes, Robinkit. I think that is what she will be named. Thank you, Buck!"

Silverstreak cocked her head to one side, studying Buck. She didn't know much about his past, except that he had lived with Mother during Forest's stay, and he had apparently been following two of his friends and lost them. But was that all there was to it? Or was there more?

"I'm glad you finally named her," is all Silverstreak said with a smile. "I'll tell the group, okay?"

Frostfeather nodded, and Silverstreak left the den. She paused in the entrance, thinking; there were two more kits she wanted to name first.

She padded into the den Jag had carved himself. Jag was there, speaking with Reedrush and watching Blitz as he slept.

"Hello," Silverstreak meowed, smiling warmly to them. "How are you?"

"Good, good," Reedrush answered. "Did Frostfeather name her other kit?"

Silverstreak nodded. "I'll be telling everyone in a moment. But there's another kit I'd like to name as well." She glanced at the sleeping kit. Reedrush nodded in understanding.

"You said he would be Blizzardkit, right?"

Silverstreak dipped her head, and Reedrush looked at her paws for a moment.

"I want him to grow up as part of the Clan," she said finally, "but still feel close to his father. If you think this name is right for him, it is fine with me."

Silverstreak smiled. "Great. Do you know where Shimmer is? I need to speak to her as well."

Reedrush shook her head. "She was gone when I woke up; she doesn't like being treated as a kit, I suppose."

"I wouldn't either," Silverstreak admitted. "Oh! Before I forget, Frostfeather's den will be our new nursery. You and Blitz – excuse me, Blizzardkit – will move in there with her, so you can all be together in one place. It's safer that way. Shimmer might move in too, if she agrees."

"I hope Frostfeather and I will be friends," Reedrush mewed, her muzzle curling into a smile. "A friend of yours is an honorable one."

Silverstreak dipped her head, and rose to her paws. "Once I find Shimmer, I'll tell the group of your decision, alright?"

Reedrush bobbed her head, and with a smile at Blizzardkit and Jag, she left.

"Has anyone seen Shimmer?" she asked. The assembled cats shook their heads – except Death, who gave a little shudder. Worried, Silverstreak searched the camp, but could find no sign of the kit. Then, fearing the worst, she opened her mouth, pulling in the scents of the forest. Mingled with them was Shimmer's scent, leading out of camp. Silverstreak's heart thudded in her chest and she broke into a run, following the scent. It led along the river at first, veered away once when Shimmer was distracted by an odd sound, before returning to the river. Then, an icy spear of fear dove into Silverstreak's heart, as she caught another scent.

Northstar.

**AN: Yikes, what happened to PeakClan?**

**Deathy is such a chew-toy in this story. He was one of my favorite characters to rp way-back-when, but he wasn't as pathetic then, I guess, ha. Silly paedophobic. xD**

**Keep the reviews coming, my darlings! It was good to see some new faces last time!**

**Also, sorry this is taking so long: I've been writing really quickly, but my time is limited and it's been a VERY busy week for me. I'm trying, loves! Remember to look at the poll; with so many good reviews, I've got plenty to say~!**


	22. C h a p t e r 21: Northstar

**AN: Let's hop in our time machine and go back a few days, to see what the PeakClan fuss was about. :3**

**I was in the car for three hours, so I had a lot of time to write. Enjoy!**

_**C h a p t e r **_**21: Northstar**

The first thing he noticed when he awoke was that it was quiet, for the first time in days. It had been three days since Rosedapple had given birth to little Brackenkit and Birdkit. And, every one of those three mornings, Rabbitpaw had been in his face, bright and early. Now, though, she was nowhere to be seen. At first, Northstar was pleased, even glad that she wasn't there to rudely wake him. Then, he blinked; if she wasn't there, did that mean something was wrong? Could she be in trouble, or even injured? Rabbitpaw had followed him like a shadow after the kitting, following his every pawstep and chattering on in her cheerful way. She had practically become his shadow, the background noise to his life in the Clan. It was strange being without her, as if he was missing one of his paws.

He rose to his feet and left the den, opening his mouth, hoping to catch her scent. It was there, but stale; she had left camp some time ago. Was she simply on the dawn patrol? He glanced at the sky, and frowned; without Rabbitpaw to wake him, he had slept in late. The dawn patrol would have already returned. So where was she?

He saw her mentor, Dapplefern, relaxing in a corner of camp. He padded to her side. She opened one eye lazily at first, only to sit up and smile as she realized it was him.

"Hello," she purred silkily. She brushed her tail against his back leg, and he tensed at the touch; he was beginning to settle into the Clan, at least in the others' minds, but contact with the PeakClan warriors was something he avoided. Moving to the side slightly, out of her reach, he rumbled,

"Where is Rabbitpaw?"

She blinked slowly, perhaps noting the urgency in his voice. "Off hunting, with Volepaw," she replied. "We talked about this a few days ago, remember? She likes him, she's just spending time with him. It's nice for me, I don't have her talking my ear off!" She let out a tinkling laugh. Northstar felt irritated; he thought the same thing to herself, but it was different then. He never voiced his irritation out loud. Somehow, hearing it come out of the dappled she-cat's mouth made him feel almost angry, at both her and himself.

"Thanks," he growled, starting to turn away.

"Don't you want to share prey with me?" Dapplefern asked, her voice almost a whine. He glanced at her, and she blinked at him alluringly. "Please?" she whispered, her green eyes round and innocent, but behind their innocence there was an almost ugly glitter that made him uncomfortable. Any cat who would badmouth her apprentice, even justified, to almost a total stranger was not a cat Northstar wanted to share prey with.

"I'm…going to see Rosedapple," he answered, his excuse for everything from going on patrol to talking to Rabbitpaw. Dapplefern's eyes narrowed.

"You shouldn't see her so often," she warned, a growl to her voice. "Cats will start to talk about you. Everyone knows she's a freak for trying to kill herself, after Lightstar couldn't stand her anymore."

Fury crackled through Northstar's pelt, and his eyes narrowed. Dapplefern's own eyes widened, and she recoiled as if he had physically struck her. He almost wished he could. Without a parting word, he turned away, walking into the nursery.

He entered somewhat gingerly; Rosedapple was temperamental when it came to her kits. She refused to even let Lightstar into the den, and she was noticeably cold to Graywing whenever the frosty gray cat came to check on her; Northstar guessed that Rosedapple's attitude was as much to blame for Graywing staying in the medicine den as Graywing's wish to continue her duties for as long as possible. She was never directly at him, but sometimes she mistook him for some other cat and would hiss before she realized who it was. Northstar was certain that she would eventually end up clawing his muzzle off, thinking he was Lightstar.

"Hello," he meowed quickly; she often recognized his voice before his pelt, even as odd as his pelt was. "The kits are definitely getting bigger." Brackenkit and Birdkit, only four days old, were squirming around their mother's belly, mewling for milk. Usually Northstar or Blackmoon brought her prey, but it looked like it would be up to Blackmoon today; Northstar didn't trust himself to leave the nursery, with Dapplefern outside.

"Thank you," Rosedapple mewed in her gentle, soft voice, like the rustle of flower petals. "How are you?"

Northstar hesitated. Usually he lied, saying 'fine' even as he plotted and planned on how to wrest power from Lightstar; today, though, lying wouldn't do any good. She would be able to hear the underlying anger in his voice; despite what the Clan said, Rosedapple was not stupid, nor was she crazy. She was simply sad most of the time, but very sharp when it came to other cats. He wondered how Lightstar's lack of love for her in later moons had escaped her notice, before she knew she was carrying his kits. According to her, it was only when she saw Graywing becoming heavy did Lightstar confess he loved the gray tabby.

"Angry," he said finally. Rosedapple looked at him curiously, but when he said nothing more, her eyes darkened.

"They're talking about me, aren't they?" she asked, bitterness in her soft voice. "They'll never stop talking about me now. They call me crazy, don't they? Don't they think I'm crazy?" Northstar still did not answer, and Rosedapple's eyes softened. "Blackmoon always lies to me," she continued, "he always tells me they aren't saying anything, that they're glad I'm alive, that they care about me. He does it to make me feel better…but he just feels sorry for me, doesn't he? That's why he lies. But you, Northstar…you never lie to me. You don't tell me they aren't talking about me, aren't wishing I had gone and killed myself." She stared down at her kits, and Northstar knew she was thinking of her promise, that she would stay alive long enough to make sure the kits survived.

"Graywing will have her kits soon," Rosedapple murmured, more to herself than Northstar. "She'll feed her kits plenty, she'll have the Clan doting on her. They love her. They don't love me. She'll lie to Brackenkit and Birdkit…say they are mine, so they don't have to know my shame…." She trailed off, her blue eyes glazed.

Northstar's eyes narrowed, and he felt the rush of anger descend on him again, directed towards PeakClan rather than Rosedapple. "I won't lie to you," he growled. "They're talking about you, yes. Some think you're crazy, sure. But those cats don't matter, Rosedapple. Lightstar isn't fit to be leader, and if they opened their eyes, they'd know that. Where I come from, where they follow the warrior code, any leader who so much as looked tenderly at a medicine cat would be exiled before he knew what had happened. What Lightstar did was wrong; StarClan knows it. StarClan knows there is nothing wrong with you."

"Then they'll welcome me, won't they?" Rosedapple asked. "I'll be safe in the stars with them."

Northstar's heart sank; he knew he wasn't making her see, couldn't make her understand. What had happened was not her fault; it was Lightstar and the Clan who should be punished for turning away from her, not Rosedapple. He stared down at the two golden kits, still squirming and clamoring for their mother's attention, and felt saddened. When they opened their eyes, would they see Rosedapple as their mother? Or Graywing?

Where was Blackmoon when Northstar needed him? Rosedapple knew he lied, but Blackmoon's soothing words still had an effect on her, more than gruff Northstar could hope for. He could sway people to follow him, to listen, but that was never for matters of the heart. Matters of the heart were something else, something he could never hope to understand. After all, he had kept his heart locked away and frozen, after Brackenheart's death, and Birdpaw's. It would take all of the power of StarClan to put him on a new path, not the dark one he walked now.

_StarClan has long forsaken me, _he thought bitterly. _I could move mountains easier than I could sway them. When I die, I'll go straight to the Dark Forest, without a doubt. _The idea chilled him, sending the fur on his shoulders upright. For the first time, he truly considered the afterlife. Always, even when planning the battles that would bend the forest Clans to his will, he had thought he was going to StarClan once he died as an honored leader and commander. And then, Brackenheart had spoke to him, refusing the nine lives that were a leader's rightful inheritance. And that, along with Crowtalon's treachery, had sent his world crashing down around his ears. Now, what did he have to believe in? Now, what did he have to hope for? He could seize control of PeakClan, with the right circumstances, yes. But what good would it do him, if when he met StarClan as Northstar once more, and again they refused to give him his earned lives? And when he died with his single life, the Clan would know, they would whisper, and Northstar would be remembered as the cat that not even StarClan would save.

If Rosedapple had not been so concerned with her own agony, she would have seen the darkening in his eyes, the fear. But she was still staring down at her kits, and saw nothing but the tainted gifts that Lightstar had given her, the two kits of his flesh and blood.

_When Graywing has her kits, Rosedapple will kill herself, one way or another, _Northstar thought with certainty. _It's the only way out for her now; StarClan will welcome her with open paws, just as she wishes. And she will wait there, waiting for Lightstar and Graywing to follow her, praying for their painful demise. Nothing Blackmoon and I do will stop her now. _For the first time in moons, he felt the slightest ripple of sorrow in his hard heart; sorrow for her, for the kits who would never know their mother, for the Clan and golden tom that didn't realize what a she-cat they had. _Perhaps they will when she's gone._

Without a word, knowing it would do no good, Northstar rose to his paws and left the den.

Rabbitpaw's bright eyes were waiting for him, but for once he felt relief instead of irritation, as if he was glad she was safe. He pushed the feeling away, firmly; it would do him no good to grow attached to PeakClan. If he could seize power, he would do it through any means, even if it meant he must betray the Clan itself in turn for stronger power. He was already damned; he might as well die pleased with his conquests, rather than lurking in the shadows of defeat.

"Hey!" Rabbitpaw chirped. "How's Rosedapple? How are the kits?"

Northstar met her green gaze with his own hard eyes, and she faltered, seeing the flickering emotion within their golden depths. "Is she not well?"

Northstar turned away, giving Rabbitpaw all the answers she needed. "She's not going to try again, is she?" Rabbitpaw squeaked in a hushed voice, glancing around furtively. She needn't have bothered; as soon as Rosedapple was mentioned, the surrounding cats lost all interest. "You can't let her!" Rabbitpaw exclaimed. "Northstar, she's your friend! She's one of us!"

"Friend," Northstar snorted. "I don't need any friends, Rabbitpaw. And do you know what else I don't need? Snot-nosed apprentices following me around, speaking as if they have any idea what I've been through!" He snarled the last words, and Rabbitpaw recoiled, her eyes wide with shock. Northstar had never raised her voice at her, never allowed so much venom to seep into his words. Suddenly, all of the irritation, the anger, the sadness, the conflict he felt within himself was pouring out, even though in the back of his mind he knew the emotions weren't directed solely at her. "Your own mentor doesn't even care about you!" he spat. "She thinks you're as annoying as I do! Volepaw doesn't even like you; even I can see that, and I couldn't care less! The elders here are the only ones deaf enough to listen to your endless chatter."

He turned away from her, stalking towards his den. Behind him, for the first time, Rabbitpaw didn't say a single word.

. . .

Northstar didn't sleep as he laid in his den; he simply stared at the wall, feeling his emotions churn within him. Instead of erasing them as he thought his outburst would, it seemed that his harsh words had only broken the dam he had built, letting feelings he hadn't experienced since Brackenheart died rush forward. He felt overwhelmed, as if he was drowned in them, but he couldn't flail his paws around and surface. This was something he had never experienced, something that he didn't understand. It frightened him; he was losing control of himself as well as his Clan.

His words flitted through his mind again – _all I've been through, doesn't even care about you, annoying, doesn't even like you, couldn't care less, only ones deaf enough to listen to your endless chatter – _and when he closed his eyes, Rabbitpaw's shocked face appeared on his eyelids, mixed with Rosedapple's glazed gaze.

And then, behind even them, he saw the starry outline of Brackenheart – _you aren't my Northpaw anymore, are you?_ He felt a wave of loss, remembering how Brackenheart had once had nothing but praise for young Northpaw – _you're doing fine, good catch, nice footwork._ That had never changed throughout his training, until Brackenheart died. Indeed, Northstar had always believed that when he died, Brackenheart would be there to praise his leadership skills, how he had so carefully outwitted the stupid forest cats, how he had brought the other three Clans to their knees. And then – _what have you become, maybe if I was around longer I could have saved you, murdered many cats in cold blood, lives are sacred, played for a fool…._

He felt despair rising in his heart. _How could you, Brackenheart? You turned your back on me. You never came to me in my dreams before; why not? We always knew I was destined for leader…or were you just lying when you said you believed in me? Didn't you think I could lead FrozenClan? Or were you always planning to betray me?_

Anger flared inside of him, mixing with resentment. He clenched his jaw, and his eyes narrowed. _I will not be overcome. _Slowly, he reined in his emotions, forcing them back behind his mental wall; he pushed the sorrow, the loss, the emptiness, the anger, the resentment, and locked it all away again, freezing his heart for the second time. But just as ice is weaker once it has been melted, so was his heart, and he knew it.

_I am lost, _he thought for the first time, and for the first time it struck a chord within him; he was truly lost now. Eventually he would lose control entirely, and spin into madness, only to perish in the Dark Forest once he died. _Is this what happened to Rosedapple? Did the emotions just chip away at her sanity until they completely overwhelmed her? _He wondered. _She never had a chance. Do I?_

But unlike Rosedapple, he didn't even have the support of StarClan. And soon, he wouldn't have a single kind voice to show him the way; Rosedapple had Blackmoon, but who did Northstar have? He had just driven Rabbitpaw away, and soon Rosedapple would end her own life, no matter how many tries it took. Blackmoon couldn't stop her forever, no matter how determined he was. Rosedapple was lost, and so was Northstar.

He gritted his jaw again, and closed his eyes, but sleep wasn't waiting to allow him to escape. He was stuck, trapped within his own mind. There was no light at the end of this tunnel.

"Help!"

Somehow, the shout shattered his thoughts, and his eyes snapped open. For a moment, he was stunned, before it registered that the voice was Rosedapple's. But why would she shout for help? She hadn't shouted or made a sound even before she plunged into the icy river. So, whatever was wrong wasn't with her. It was someone else.

He blinked as he realized he had already risen to his paws, and burst out of the den, turning towards her cry. She was standing in the entrance of the nursery, her eyes wide with panic. He blinked, before he caught the scent of blood in his mouth.

He was at her side in an instant. "What—" He broke off, seeing Graywing lying in the nursery.

"She was coming to check on me, when the contractions started," Rosedapple whimpered. "But something's wrong."

Graywing let out a yowl of pain. Glancing over his shoulder, Northstar saw a crowd gathering.

"Graywing is having her kits, but something is going wrong!" he shouted to them. "Do any of you have any training? Do you know what to do?"

The Clan simply stared at him in shock, frozen. Rabbitpaw's green eyes were not among them, but it didn't register in Northstar's mind. _Where is Blackmoon? Doesn't he have some training? _Northstar thought desperately. The black tom was nowhere to be seen. He turned back to Graywing, whose eyes were closed. She was panting heavily, and blood stained the dirt around her.

"Graywing!" Northstar growled. "Focus, tell me what to do. What can I do? What went wrong?"

"I don't know," Graywing whimpered, her voice weak. "They're too early…they should have half a moon left." Her eyes opened for a moment, but they were clouded with pain. "There's nothing you can do. It happened to…Littlepetal…she died, I could only save Icepaw and Hawkpaw from her litter…." Graywing's eyes locked onto Northstar's, and for a moment they were clear. "Save the kits."

Rosedapple's own eyes were wide with panic. For a moment, Northstar was surprised that she seemed to care about the she-cat Lightstar had left her for, before he realized that Graywing was Rosedapple's only hope. If Graywing died, there would be no one to feed Brackenkit and Birdkit…as well as Graywing's own kits, if any survived this disaster.

Graywing's back arched in pain, as the first kit appeared. Northstar watched, frozen, as the first kit slid out. For a moment, neither Rosedapple nor Northstar moved. Then, Graywing let out another gasp of pain, and the stench of blood broke Northstar's thoughts once more. He moved forward, licking the tiny scrap of fur – it was even smaller than little Birdkit. The kit gave the tiniest, weakest of mewls, but it appeared another kit were already on the way. Northstar began licking it as well, and it let out a squeak, but Northstar's attention remained on Graywing. Her breathing was already slowing as the third kit appeared, who refused to breath no matter how hard Northstar's tongue rasped against his pelt. The blood seemed to fill the den, and Northstar could almost feel it lapping at his paws, although whether it was real or only his shattered mind, he couldn't tell.

"I…I'm sorry, Rose…." Graywing wheezed. "We never…meant…please take ca…." Her breath went out in a sigh, leaving the fragment of her last word hanging as her eyes drooped closed. Within moments, her side stopped moving. Still in shock, Northstar was motionless. Beside him, Rosedapple let out a small whimper of despair.

"Graywing!" The word, so full of sorrow, sent a crack into Northstar's half-frozen heart. Lightstar stood in the entrance to the nursery, his golden eyes wide as he gazed down at Graywing's still body. "Graywing…no," he whispered, falling to her side. He pressed his nose into her fur, but from his whimper Northstar knew it was already going cold. Beside him, Rosedapple was shaking, although from despair, sorrow, or anger, Northstar couldn't tell.

"She has two kits," Northstar meowed, forcing the words out. "They're alive."

Lightstar's eyes slowly went from Graywing's body to the two tiny kits huddled against her stomach. They were both Graywing's soft gray color, although one had Lightstar's pale pattern of tabby markings on its body.

Lightstar stared at the kits for a moment, before he gathered them close to him, drinking in their scent as if they held some bit of Graywing's spirit.

"She asked me to take care of them, I think," Rosedapple's weak voice surprised Northstar, and he glanced at her, wondering at the thoughts churning behind her dark blue eyes.

Lightstar slowly drew his gaze to meet hers. "Rosedapple," he mewed, his voice almost a sigh. "Would you…? Even though…?"

"They'll die if I don't." Rosedapple's voice was even. "I had been hoping to kill myself when Graywing had her kits, but I suppose that will have to wait."

Lightstar simply stared at her, as if her words were barely registering; Northstar could see all that mattered was that she would take his kits. "Thank you," the golden tabby mewled, his voice as small as a kit's. He moved as if he was going to touch her, or lick her, only to glance at Northstar and then look down at his kits, then to Graywing. He made a sorrowful sound that Northstar had never heard before, and bent down to lick her shoulder tenderly. Northstar barely heard him whisper "I'll see you in the stars", before Lightstar rose to his paws and left the den. Northstar padded to the entrance, and watched as the golden tom padded into his den without even glancing at his Clan, a broken cat. Northstar felt not even the tiniest twinge of sympathy, or pity. He turned to look back into the nursery, and saw Rosedapple curled around Brackenkit and Birdkit again, this time with two tiny gray scraps mixed in as well.

"What happened? What are we going to do?" the Clan clamored, but their words fell on Northstar's deaf ears. He could barely understand what had happened, let alone what would have to happen next. Someone would need to move Graywing's body, he knew, and somehow they would have to find a medicine cat, but everything seemed distant. All he could see was Rosedapple, curled around four kits that didn't truly belong to her…that didn't belong to anyone.

Then, he turned and saw Blackmoon's blue eyes on him. "What is it? Did something happen to Rosedapple?" the dark tom asked. Northstar suddenly felt a rush of irrational anger.

"Where were you?" he hissed. "You weren't there for Rosedapple's kitting, and now you weren't even here for Graywing's death. What is wrong with you?"

Horror rippled through the Clan with the mention of Graywing's death, but Northstar ignored them, only having room for Blackmoon in his furious gaze. "You're never around when your Clan needs you."

"B-B-Blackmoon was t-t-t…." A stuttering voice made Northstar glance away from Blackmoon's stunned face. Mousepaw stared back at him, frozen.

"What Mousepaw is trying to say is that Blackmoon was trained to be medicine cat apprentice," Rainwind meowed, moving to stand beside his apprentice. "He allowed Graywing to take the position, since she was older. Could Blackmoon be our medicine cat now?"

Blackmoon paled under his fur. "N-no, I couldn't," he stammered. "I mean, I dabbled a bit, but I became a warrior, I'm not qualified!"

"You're all the Clan has right now," Northstar growled, "and this way you'll have to be here for PeakClan, whether you want to or not." His golden gaze made Blackmoon shudder.

"There has to be someone else," Blackmoon mewed weakly, but already the Clan was turning its eyes to him, pleading for his help.

"There is no one else," Northstar hissed. "It's your job now. It's only a day past the half-moon; when night falls, you can go to wherever you meet StarClan and have your place as medicine cat confirmed."

"Lightstar named you for your closeness to our ancestors," Fawncloud said, her eyes wide as she stared at Blackmoon. "You're the only one of us who can do this."

Blackmoon was trembling, unable to meet Northstar's eyes. "I…I will."

There was no sound of joy or happiness, only aching sorrow for Graywing's loss. The Clan was motionless, waiting for someone to tell them what to do – to get Graywing's body, to help get her blood out of the nursery, to begin to ready Graywing for her vigil – but Lightstar remained in his den, consumed by his own loss. As the initial shock ebbed away slowly, Northstar felt his shattered mind begin to piece itself together. He raised his gaze and squared his jaw. Taking a deep breath, he meowed,

"Stoneheart, Fawncloud, retrieve Graywing's body from the den. Prepare her for her vigil, with Blackmoon. Foxclaw, Dapplefern, Sandpelt, you three dig the bloodied sand out of the nursery; Rosedapple and the kits shouldn't have to lie in it."

Slowly, the named cats began to move; Northstar moved to the side to allow them to enter the nursery. He felt Blackmoon's gaze upon him, but did not look; anger still crackled under his pelt. He did not trust himself to speak again. Ignoring the rest of the anxious cats, he turned away, padding into his den. Even though the sun was just beginning to sink, he rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes. Within moments, under the stress of the day, he had drifted away.

. . .

He awoke slowly, almost gingerly; everything was spinning when he first opened his eyes. He closed them again, allowing the world a moment to right itself, before opening them and rising to his paws. He padded out of the den, and winced; somehow he felt almost sore, a deep ache. The events of the day before – Graywing's death, his fight with Rabbitpaw, Blackmoon becoming the medicine cat – rushed forward, and he nearly collapsed under their weight. He felt shaken, old, weak. He did not feel like himself.

Slowly, he let out a tired breath, before raising his head to glance around camp. Graywing's body was gone; he had missed the vigil. He had also missed Blackmoon leaving to find StarClan, wherever they were. For a moment, he wondered how StarClan kept in touch with the Clans, before pushing it aside. It didn't matter to him, now did it?

He glanced towards Rosedapple's den, but stopped himself even before he moved. Rosedapple was fine now, and she would have to be for at least another two moons; it would take that long to wean her kits, and Graywing's. What would she name them? He glanced in Lightstar's den, but couldn't see anything; either Lightstar was lurking in the back, or visiting his two kits. Either way, Northstar didn't care. At that moment, he was simply…tired. What did it matter what Lightstar was doing? What did it matter, if Rosedapple killed herself? What did it matter if he even stayed here? Gaining power didn't mean anything if you didn't get to keep it, and with only one life, he wouldn't hang onto it for very long. What was the point?

He let out a quiet sigh, and simply stared down at his paws, staring at the line that divided the white fur from the black.

"Are you alright?" The unwelcome voice made him look up, as he blinked into Dapplefern's wide eyes. "You look unhappy; disturbed about Graywing's death?" Her voice sounded innocent, but she brushed her tail against his hindquarters in a way that was anything but. He took a step back, away from her. Rabbitpaw's face suddenly flitted into his mind, although he wasn't sure why.

"Is Rabbitpaw hunting?" he asked; with a glance around camp, he knew she wasn't present.

Dapplefern gave a small shrug. "I don't know," she meowed lightly. "She disappeared yesterday, around sunhigh. I haven't seen her since; been busy with Graywing, and everything."

An image suddenly flashed in Northstar's mind: gathered cats staring at him for guidance. Rabbitpaw's bright eyes were not among them.

He suddenly felt a sinking feeling in his chest. "Has anyone seen her since then? Has anyone left camp?"

Dapplefern shook her head. "We all sat vigil for Graywing, and buried her; there's a place for burials on top of this peak, we don't dare carry bodies down there. Everyone was too tired to do the dawn patrol, so no one went." Northstar felt fleeting disgust for their weakness – not carrying out a dawn patrol because they were 'tired'? – before his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"And you never went looking for your own apprentice?"

Dapplefern's own eyes narrowed slightly. "I was busy, okay? I figured she'd want to be with her family, if they could stand her. I was just glad she wasn't bothering me this morning, I figured she'd slept in." Northstar knew she was lying; no one who knew Rabbitpaw could assume that the gray-and-white apprentice even considered sleeping in.

Northstar turned, heading for the entrance of camp.

"Where are you going?" Dapplefern called.

"I'm going to look for _your _apprentice," he snarled, without looking back.

He padded through the brush quickly, ignoring the crackling sound of his pelt rubbing against dry leaves. Hunger clawed his belly; he hadn't even eaten the day before, with all that had happened. He ignored the feeling; if Rabbitpaw hadn't returned, something was very wrong. Even if she was angry with him, she would have still come back for her family.

He opened his mouth, catching her faint scent. It was splashed over the rocks leading down from the peak to the ground below, along the river. Spray from the waterfall made the path slick, and he began stepping down carefully, before he froze. Rabbitpaw's scent left abruptly; was it because the waterfall had simply erased it? Or something else?

He continued down the path slightly, away from the spray, but her scent did not return. Frowning, a dark thought occurred to him, and he looked down.

The first thing he saw was the pool of crimson. The second was Rabbitpaw's still body, lying with her front paws beneath her; when she had fallen, she had tried landing on her paws, but hadn't quite managed it.

Northstar took off like a bolt of lightning, darting down the rocky outcroppings, ignoring the path entirely, settling for the straight descent down the slope. He was at her side in an instant, his paws sticky with her blood. Flies buzzed around her body, and for a moment he was certain she was dead, until her stump of a tail twitched weakly, trying in vain to keep the flies away.

"Rabbitpaw," he rasped, his voice suddenly choked, as if his throat had closed. Rabbitpaw's green eyes flickered open, but they were cloudy; she was delirious.

"Go…'way," she croaked, before her eyes closed again, letting out a quiet sigh. Northstar hesitated uncertainly; did he dare move her? He glanced up at the peak, and then down to her body; he wasn't sure how she had even survived this long. Time was of the essence; every moment mattered. Grabbing her scruff in his jaws, he began dragging her. She let out a gasp of pain, regaining consciousness for a mere second as his movements jostled her legs, before falling into blackness once more.

He made his way to the path, remembering his similar climb with Rosedapple. Rabbitpaw was light, almost weightless, just like her namesake. Digging his claws into the rock, he forced himself forward, holding Rabbitpaw as far off of the ground as he was able, in order to avoid harming her legs farther.

The climb seemed to take hours, as he continued carefully up the path, taking care not to jostle her. A trail of her blood led the way up the path.

Green foliage finally greeted his eyes, but he felt no relief; he would feel none until he was certain Rabbitpaw would be alright. Resting only a moment to better grip her scruff, he continued.

Gasps met him as he entered camp. Ignoring the stares, he padded into Graywing's old den. Blackmoon was sorting herbs, a frown on his face, which turned into a look of horror as he saw what remained of Rabbitpaw.

"What…?" he whispered. Laying her down gently, Northstar let out a hiss to the black tom.

"She fell from the cliffs. Fix her!"

Blackmoon paled under his dark fur. "I-it isn't that easy, I-I'm not trained—"

"Fix her!" Northstar roared, the blood pounding in his ears, "or I swear to StarClan I'll rip your muzzle off!"

"What's going on?" a low voice growled. Northstar turned, blinking into the gray face of Stoneheart, deputy of PeakClan, as well as Rabbitpaw's father. His eyes widened, seeing the bloody lump of fur that was his daughter.

"She fell from the cliffs the day before, no one was looking for her," Blackmoon meowed. "But there's a lot of damage, especially to her legs; both of her front paws might have been completely shattered. She's lost a lot of blood, and I don't even know if there are internal injuries—"

Northstar opened his mouth to shout again, but found himself blocked by the gray tom.

"Get out," Stoneheart growled. "Blackmoon will handle it." Northstar's eyes narrowed, and Stoneheart's lip curled. "That's an order, not a request," he hissed, unsheathing his claws. "Get out. Now."

Northstar glanced past his broad form, towards Rabbitpaw's still body, before turning and padding out of the den. A golden blur nearly knocked him over.

"W-w-w-w…." Mousepaw swallowed, unable to choke out the words.

"What happened?" Volepaw asked, following Mousepaw. "What happened to Rabbitpaw?"

Northstar tried to move around them, but the apprentices blocked his path. Dapplefern approached slowly.

"What's going on?" she asked. Behind her, the other cats were looking puzzled and frightened.

"She fell from the cliffs yesterday," Northstar hissed at her. "No one went looking for her, not even her own mentor. She was out there for hours! Blackmoon doesn't know if she'll live."

Mousepaw's eyes widened with horror, and he let out a muffled cry. He suddenly darted forward, trying to squeeze past Northstar, but he could not. "L-l-let me p-p-ass!" he hissed, his golden eyes burning.

"Give Blackmoon time to work; an apprentice getting in his way won't help him save her," Northstar snarled. Ignoring the hurt in Mousepaw's eyes, he stalked away.

_It's my fault, _he thought, the blood still roaring in his ears. His thoughts seemed to pound within him with each heartbeat. _My fault. My fault. My fault._

"Northstar!" he heard Dapplefern cry. Her sickly-sweet scent filled his nose, as she followed him.

"Is this my fault?" she asked, her voice sounding almost breathless. "Is it my fault she's hurt? The Clan will never forgive me for this!"

"The Clan? You're worried about your reputation?" Northstar's lip curled with disgust. "Your apprentice is fighting for her life right now, and you're more concerned about what the Clan will think of you. You disgust me, Dapplefern. You're a sick specimen of a lax, worthless Clan."

Dapplefern's eyes widened. For a moment, she was motionless. Then, fire burned in her green eyes, and before he realized what had happened, he felt the sting of her claws against his muzzle. He took a step back, feeling warm blood trickle down his muzzle.

"Don't talk that way to me," she snarled. "It's your fault, Northstar. Everyone saw what you said to her. It's your fault she ran off and was hurt, and I'll make sure the whole Clan knows it, mark my words!" She turned and fled. Where she went, Northstar didn't know, nor did he care. He had nothing more to say to her. Ignoring his stinging muzzle, he padded away.

. . .

Stoneheart did not leave Blackmoon's den that day; it was his right as deputy to stay with the medicine cat and watch him work. Northstar was reduced to either pacing in front of the den, or wandering the forest like a shadow. He moved freely, eyes glazed, padding through the forest like a ghost. Rabbitpaw buzzed through his thoughts, and he saw her on the ground again and again, broken.

A slight crackle caught his attention and he turned, blinking. A strange sight greeted his eyes; a little silver kit, probably five moons old, leaped forward and pounced, catching a butterfly in her paws. She stared at it for a moment, before picking it up in her jaws and biting down as if she was killing prey. She spat the mangled remains of the butterfly on the ground, before looking up. She met Northstar's gaze with icy eyes, almost as if she wasn't surprised; her face gave nothing away.

"'Ey," she mewed, cocking her head to one side. "Who's you?"

He simply stared at her, puzzled; where had she come from? She was well fed, and he was willing to bet she didn't hunt for herself. So who else was with her?

"Who're you?" he shot back.

"Iz Shimmer," she answered. The name prickled the edge of Northstar's mind; it took him a moment to recall the injured silver she-cat that Rainwind had reported, with his apprentice Mousepaw. They had been looking for Blackmoon and had found him, but when they returned for the silver she-cat, she had vanished. This kit was obviously not that cat, but they shared the same name…what was the connection? Was the older cat her mother? This kit couldn't have dragged her mother away by herself, and the she-cat was in no place to walk away, so there was at least one other cat involved as well. A later patrol had found two bodies, both toms, nearby several days later. Were the toms and both Shimmers related?

"Where did you come from?" he growled. Shimmer's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Here and dere," she meowed, flicking her ear. "You come from the peak? You not a friend den." She rose to her paws, ready to run.

"I'll just follow your scent," Northstar meowed, almost mildly. "Don't run off."

Shimmer froze for a moment, weighing her options. "You follow me 'n' die," she growled. "Big warriors beat you up."

Northstar's ears pricked; warriors? Did Shimmer use the term vaguely, simply meaning that they were fighters? Or did she mean actual warriors?

_Silverstreak, _his mind whispered. It could not be a coincidence, to have a silver she-cat injured on PeakClan territory, with Twolegplace so close by. And, wasn't this kit….He closed his eyes, trying to remember. Yes, Silverstreak had found a kit while he'd been following her and her friends. They'd left it at the lake though, hadn't they? He couldn't remember, it had nearly been a month ago. Surely, though, this was the same cat. He opened his eyes, realizing the implications; Silverstreak was here, right in the forest. Not only that, but she had friends, lots of them. There was no doubt that she was trying to stake out this territory for herself, right under PeakClan's nose.

Dimly, he realized that Shimmer had run away while he'd been thinking with his eyes closed. It wasn't smart, but it didn't matter, he couldn't follow her now without risking being spotted. That didn't matter. What mattered was that Silverstreak was here, in PeakClan's territory.

Slowly, a cruel smile worked its way onto his muzzle, and his golden eyes narrowed into slits. _I can wipe out what remains of BirchClan, and seize power in PeakClan in the same move. _He felt a rumbling purr build up in his throat; even without StarClan, he could still come out on top.

**AN: Remember to review, loves, and I'll update the blog soon~!**


	23. C h a p t e r 22

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**22**

Creeping forward slowly, feeling ice seep into her heart, Silverstreak saw the muscular tom standing before the silver kit. To Shimmer's credit, she did not tremble, keeping her gaze firmly onto Northstar's. Shimmer said something that Silverstreak couldn't hear, and understanding gleamed in Northstar's golden eyes. He closed his eyes only for an instant, thinking, and in that instant Shimmer made her escape, darting away into the forest. She was not heading towards camp, knowing she would lead him there, but running away to disguise her scent before returning home. Silverstreak felt a glimmer of pride at the kit's intelligence, but the fear she felt within drowned the feeling out. Northstar opened his eyes, noting that the kit was gone; to her relief, he did not pursue Shimmer. Instead, he turned and padded away, towards PeakClan.

Feeling as if her heart was weighted with stones, Silverstreak turned away, darting back to camp.

"Did you find—" Ravenwing broke off, seeing the fright in Silverstreak's eyes. "What is it?"

"Northstar," Silverstreak meowed, her voice constricted with fear. Ravenwing's eyes widened. Not wasting a moment, Silverstreak let out a yowl, calling the group together.

"I just saw Northstar, with Shimmer," she announced. "I couldn't hear what was being said, but Northstar knows we're here." Silverstreak lifted her tail for silence, warding off their questions. "Shimmer did not betray us, of that much I'm certain. When the PeakClan cats found me, I told them my name was Shimmer. Shimmer probably told him her name, and he put two and two together. He doesn't know how many of us are here, but he didn't seem surprised. Originally I thought he had entered the forest before us, but I think he might have actually been following us for some time. He's returned to PeakClan. He might be back with warriors to fight us, or he might bide his time, I don't know. Either way, we have no choice but to move. Shimmer's scent, along with my own, will lead him right to us. Our scents are all over this place; with careful scrutiny, they'll know exactly how many of us are here."

"What do we do? We can't go to Twolegplace now, not while there's danger here!" Eaglestrike growled.

"The danger level hasn't changed," Silverstreak meowed. "PeakClan would have found us eventually, this is what we were preparing for. You all must still go to Twolegplace, but hide your scents so they don't know. If they don't know how many of us are here, they won't know where we are. This will make them paranoid, and they'll make mistakes. Remember, you're also going to Twolegplace to recruit; we'll need many, many cats on our side."

"We can't leave you defenseless," Buck rumbled. "It wouldn't be right."

"What about Frostfeather?" Death asked, golden eyes wide. "What will she do with her kits?"

"We'll have to move to another camp, and quickly; the same time you're going to Twolegplace. I want to be in the same area, so we can monitor PeakClan's comings and goings," Silverstreak answered. "We'll be fine; PeakClan is wild, but Northstar isn't very powerful, even now. They won't slaughter queens and kits, especially not those with warrior blood. I'm sure I can make any patrols see sense if we're discovered."

"This is a risky gamble." Eaglestrike's golden eyes were grave. "Are you certain it will work?"

Silverstreak gave a little shrug. "We don't have many other options, now do we?"

Eaglestrike held her gaze for a moment, before dropping it as he let out a sigh. "You're right. We should move immediately. We can all roll in the mud next to the river, it should cloak our scents. We'll help you with your new camp before we leave."

Silverstreak nodded, and the cats rose to their paws. Silverstreak padded into Forest's den. He was looking at her curiously.

"We're moving, right?" he asked. "We're going somewhere else?"

Silverstreak nodded, and Forest's ears flattened. "I guess you'll be leaving me here, then, to make sure you move fast enough."

Silverstreak blinked at him in surprise. "Where did you get that idea?"

"If you try to move me, I'll just slow you down," Forest reasoned. "It's logical to leave me behind, I get it. It's okay, Silverstreak."

"No, it's not. That's not how a Clan works, Forest. You're one of us now, we aren't just going to leave you behind. You're coming with us. Buck and Eaglestrike will help carry you. We're a Clan, Forest. We'll never desert you."

Forest blinked at her, something glittering in his eyes, before he glanced away from her face. "Okay. I'll try not to make too much noise."

"I know you'll be brave," Silverstreak said with a smile, before glancing towards the entrance as Eaglestrike blocked the light.

"We'll try to get you up as best we can, but I'd advise eating one of those first." Eaglestrike nodded towards the poppy seeds. Craning his neck, Forest lapped up one of the little black seeds. Then, he braced his front paws against the ground, propping himself up slightly while leaving his back legs limp on the ground. Eaglestrike moved forward, allowing Forest to rest his weight against the gray tom, as he forced himself up with his good back leg. He let out a hiss of pain as the movement jostled his leg; he hadn't used it for a third of a moon, and it was weak and stiff.

"Relax, I've got you," Eaglestrike said softly. Forest's eyes were closed, but after taking a deep breath, he nodded. Together, they padded out of the den, barely managing to squeeze out of the narrow entrance. Silverstreak followed closely, smiling reassuringly at Forest as he glanced at her several times. Looking around camp, she saw Jag leading Reedrush away, the silver she-cat carrying Blizzardkit despite his protests. Buck was helping Frostfeather carry her kits – Silverstreak noticed Death was keeping his distance – and to her delight she saw Shimmer enter camp, safe from harm. The kit obviously didn't understand the rules governing when she could leave camp, but it was understandable; she was a free spirit, never having been chained to a Clan or any other cat besides her 'Mudder'.

Ravenwing was walking with Frostfeather as well, watching Robinkit and Jaykit carefully. Silverstreak returned her gaze to Forest, watching him limp along. Eaglestrike was patient, matching his pace as the entire group headed towards the river.

Blizzardkit let out a squeal of excitement as he saw the river. He wiggled out of Reedrush's grasp, into the mud. The feel of the wet earth seemed to delight him, for he began rolling and playing in it, letting out mewls of excitement as he ran around on unsteady legs, caking himself with mud. Amused, Silverstreak glanced at Reedrush, seeing a gentle smile curl the she-cat's muzzle as she watched her kit play. Silverstreak turned to Shimmer, but the kit's stony expression told Silverstreak that she had no intention of playing.

Forest let out a hiss of pain as Eaglestrike helped him lie down, to be coated with mud along with the others. Silverstreak nodded to Eaglestrike, and he stepped back, allowing Silverstreak to stand beside the brown tom. Scooping up a pawful of mud, she dabbed it carefully onto his shoulder.

"Most of your wounds are almost healed," she noted, rubbing the mud into his fur. "Does this hurt?"

Forest let out a laugh, his green eyes dancing at her. "As long as it's you doing this, I'm fine with it."

Silverstreak blushed despite herself, scooping up more mud to hide her face. "You're leg will be fine again soon too, don't worry."

"The crazy tom who nearly killed me has aligned himself with PeakClan, and plans on killing us all," Forest meowed, his eyes drifting shut. "Of course I have nothing to worry about."

Silverstreak's whiskers drooped; it was true, the budding Clan was in a lot of trouble, and there was nothing she could do about it. Forest opened his eyes, and sighed as he saw her defeated expression.

"Sorry, princess, I'm just being gloomy is all," he attempted to smile. "We'll make it through, don't you worry, okay? We'll be fine, completely fine. Your StarClan things will keep us safe."

Silverstreak couldn't help but smile at his attempt to comfort her. "StarClan protects you, even if you don't believe in them," she meowed, smoothing mud onto his tail. "You'll see someday."

Forest grunted in reply, and as she smoothed mud on his chest, she was silent as well. Glancing over the rest of the cats, she saw that they were all either rolling in the mud themselves, or helping others get the spots they missed. Soon, the entire group was covered in mud – although Shimmer had to be recoated several times, as her sleek coat seemed to shed mud like rainwater. Eaglestrike helped Forest to his paws again, and they were on their way once more.

"Where are you doing to make camp?" Eaglestrike inquired.

"We have to stay on our side of the river," Silverstreak meowed. "If we're going to stake a claim, I want to ensure that we've always been on our side, we're more credible that way. Also, if we move every week or so – when we meet with you in Twolegplace, you can help us until Frostfeather's kits are bigger and Forest's leg is healed – we'll quickly learn the territory like the back of our paws."

"That doesn't answer my question: where are we camping now?"

Silverstreak frowned. "I'm not sure; somewhere inconspicuous. An old badger or fox den, perhaps."

Eaglestrike flicked his tail to Death. "You aren't carrying kits or anything. Go on ahead and scout out any old dens."

The black tom nodded and slipped away, his lean body disappearing into the brush. They continued, following his scent. He reappeared moments later.

"There's a fox den nearby, but it's kind of small," he said timidly. "Should I keep looking?"

Silverstreak shook her head. "We'll make it bigger," she decided. "Reedrush, Blizzardkit, Frostfeather, and her kits can all stay there." She blinked down at Shimmer. "Where do you want to sleep?" She knew the kit wouldn't want to be treated as such, and sleep in the nursery. She could sleep with Silverstreak and Forest, if she chose; Shimmer was nearly an apprentice anyway.

"We'll make our own den nearby," Silverstreak explained. "The scent of fox will still be around it too, not our own, so PeakClan won't be suspicious."

The group followed Death to the fox den. Frostfeather peeked inside, frowning. "A little small for all of us."

"I'll help enlarge it," Death offered, gaining several surprised looks from the other cats. Flushing slightly, he disappeared inside.

"Jag and I will begin the new den," Buck rumbled. He and the scarred tom padded away, leaving the rest of the cats waiting. Silverstreak turned to Shimmer, who still hadn't replied.

"Who will you be with?"

Shimmer blinked up at her. "You, o' course," she meowed, in a voice suggesting that Silverstreak was mentally impaired. "Don't wanna be with a bunch of stupid snotty kits no-ways."

Silverstreak's whiskers twitched with amusement, but she assumed a stern expression. "Those kits are your Clanmates, Shimmer, don't forget that."

Shimmer rolled her eyes, and Silverstreak pushed her gently with one paw. "Lighten up," she purred. "No one's going to hurt you here."

Shimmer's eyes darkened. "Mudder isn't here. As long as she isn't here, den I not safe." She looked down at her paws, and Silverstreak felt a stirring of pity for the kit.

"We'll keep you safe, promise." Silverstreak scooped the kit up, pressing her against her chest. She expected Shimmer to struggle, but the kit simply relaxed under her touch, and Silverstreak felt her little body give the smallest of sighs.

Shimmer was only still for a moment before she began to squirm, worming her way out of Silverstreak's paws. "Keep da soft stuff to yoself," she scoffed. "I'mma big cat. I don't do dat. I fight!" She pounced on Silverstreak's tail, who let out a yelp as Shimmer's sharp claws pushed past her thick fur into her tail. Silverstreak pushed Shimmer away, and crouched, letting out a growl as she playfully swiped at the kit's muzzle. Shimmer surprised Silverstreak by biting down on her paw. Letting out a cry of pain, Silverstreak recoiled. Shimmer blinked at her, confused.

"Bite me back," she meowed, cocking her head to one side.

"Is that how you play with your mother?" Silverstreak asked, giving her paw a comforting lick. She was surprised to taste blood; Shimmer's teeth were sharper than she had thought.

"Dat how me and my brother played," Shimmer replied. Silverstreak's eyes widened.

"Brother? You never told us you had a brother."

Shimmer shrugged. "You never asked." She glanced around, her pelt ruffling from the stares of the others. "Wat?"

"Where is your brother, Shimmer? Is he still at the lake?" Ravenwing asked. Shimmer shook her head.

"Mudder took him wid her," Shimmer answered, and her gaze dropped to her paws. "She disappeared in da middle of da night."

Silverstreak's eyes narrowed. "You said something chased you."

"Ya, dey did. Big nasty monster things." Shimmer shuddered delicately. "Mudder tried bringing us both wid her, cuz she felt guilty 'bout leaving one of us behind. But I guess she chose him. I tried to wait but she neber came back…so…." Shimmer trailed off, her eyes filling with emotion. Something was nagging at the back of Silverstreak's mind – something about Shimmer's tale sounded familiar – but the pity she felt for the kit overwhelmed her thoughts.

"Okay, I think I'm done." Death peeked his head out of the entrance. "You wanna look at it, Frostfeather?" he asked eagerly. Frostfeather rolled her eyes at him, squeezing past with Jaykit clutched in her jaws. Death shrank against the side of the den, Jaykit's tail missing him by inches. Death shuddered, padding the rest of the way out of the den.

"Yeah, I think there's enough room in here," Frostfeather called. Her head reappeared, minus Jaykit. "Good job, Death; I have to admit that was pretty fast."

Death's face lit up at her praise. _The way he's beaming, you would have thought Frostfeather just confessed her love for him, _Silverstreak thought. _He really is head over paws…poor cat._

Pawsteps told her that Buck and Jag were finished as well. They appeared mere moments later, blinking at her for new orders. Silverstreak sighed.

"I guess we don't have any more time to waste," she meowed. "Eaglestrike, Ravenwing, Buck, Jag, Death, I guess you guys should go ahead and go. The new moon is in a few days, I'll see you then."

"We'll be at the entrance of Twolegplace," Eaglestrike promised.

"Be safe," Frostfeather mewed to Ravenwing. Ravenwing let out a purr.

"You're going to be in more danger than we are, with two rowdy kits and PeakClan," the black she-cat replied. "Be careful."

Silverstreak touched noses with Eaglestrike. "Keep them in line," she purred, and Eaglestrike smiled.

"I was almost BirchClan's leader, I think I can handle this," he responded.

"Oh!" Ravenwing suddenly exclaimed, eyes widening. "I was going to tell you, but it completely slipped my mind; Forest should be stretching his leg to make sure he regains full use of it, okay? Just a little at first, more as the days go on. When he's comfortable with it, he can try walking around and putting weight on it, too. You might have to help keep him steady at first."

Silverstreak nodded. "I'll make sure he stretches." She shot a grin in Forest's direction, and his green eyes twinkled at her.

Ravenwing swallowed, and then blinked. "Well…I guess we're going now," she said uncertainly. The group was frozen for a moment, before Eaglestrike flicked his tail and padded into the brush. The others followed him, after Jag licked Reedrush's ear and Death sent a glance in Frostfeather's direction. As Silverstreak listened to their pawsteps leading away, she felt fear rise up within her.

_All of our best fighters are leaving us in enemy territory, _she thought. _What was I thinking? I had no choice, this is the best way for us to remain safe…but it doesn't seem that much better, truly._

She sighed quietly, and then turned to the remaining cats.

"Go ahead and settle yourselves," she told the queens. "I'll find us some moss after I help Forest into his den."

Shimmer's ears pricked. "Can I come?"

Silverstreak smiled at her, her paw still stinging slightly; it would be better if the kit was helping gather moss than chomping down on defenseless Forest's own paws. "Sure. We can find some herbs, too; we'll need poppy seeds and oak leaves still, for Forest's remaining wounds. Not much, though, they're almost healed."

Shimmer nodded, her blue eyes gleaming as she followed Silverstreak. Silverstreak waited patiently as Forest forced himself to his paws. He leaned against her, his breath coming in hot pants against her ear.

"You okay?" she inquired, getting a pained grunt in response. Slowly, she guided a limping Forest to the den Jag and Buck had created, lowering herself slightly to accommodate for the slope into the den. Forest flopped onto the ground with a sigh.

"We'll be back soon," Silverstreak promised, before she and Shimmer padded away from the makeshift camp, which reeked of fox.

Moss was easy to find, so close to the river. Silverstreak had quickly gathered a large pawful of the stuff, as had Shimmer. Shimmer was straining to reach another moss-covered rock with one paw, balanced precariously on another slick stone. Silverstreak's eyes narrowed, and she crept forward silently, before pouncing. Shimmer splashed into the shallow water with a squeal, bobbing to the surface immediately. Easily snagging Shimmer's floating moss with one claw, Silverstreak grinned.

"That's for my paw," she purred, springing away as Shimmer flailed wildly with her claws. Laughing, Silverstreak side-stepped the kit's clumsy attempts, nearly losing her own clutched moss. Still laughing, she sprang away, weaving through the thick forest. Behind her, Shimmer floundered in the brush.

Silverstreak waited for the indignant kit to catch up, before entering camp. Giving Reedrush and Frostfeather moss to share, she continued to Forest's den. Shimmer watched stonily as Silverstreak prepared a comfortable bed for Forest, a smaller one for Shimmer, and a somewhat bare one for herself.

"Herbs now?" Shimmer growled, fixing Silverstreak with narrowed eyes.

_She needs to lighten up; I'm not even sure she knows how to play, _Silverstreak thought, but she said nothing, simply nodding. Flicking her tail, she left the den and headed into the forest. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure Shimmer was following, she asked,"Do you know where the oak leaves are?"

Shimmer shook her head. "They're in that tree where Forest was living," Silverstreak explained. "They'll be fun to get. We use them to help ward off infection, or Forest's wounds could become infected again. He nearly died from the last infection; if it wasn't for Blackmoon, a PeakClan cat, he might have perished."

Shimmer cocked her head to one side. "Is he da one who caught me?"

Silverstreak's eyes narrowed, icy fear trickling down her back. "No, I'm afraid not," she said slowly. "That was Northstar, a dangerous cat. He's the reason Frostfeather, Ravenwing, and I had to leave our home in the first place. He killed my mother in battle, and my father through a disease. He's the reason our Clans fell, you see."

Shimmer's eyes widened. "So he's bad?"

"Yes, very. I'm surprised he let you get away, but don't worry; even if he had attacked, I would have protected you." _Of course, it would have been my one life against his nine, _Silverstreak thought, ears flattening. _I wouldn't have been able to hold him off for long…although, that does raise a question. When do I receive my nine lives, if I am to lead this Clan? Or will Eaglestrike lead us? He was supposed to succeed my father, and I him. Does StarClan want him to lead now? Where do we speak to them in this place? If only I had thought to ask Blackmoon! But it is too dangerous to try and find a single PeakClan warrior now, with the entire Clan roaming the forest…. _

"We gonna find dem, or not?" Shimmer asked impatiently. "Come on, don't stare off, we gots work to be doin'!"

Silverstreak laughed. "Enthusiastic, are you? Good, you can learn a lot from your mentor when you become an apprentice."

"I'm an apprentice now," Shimmer declared. Silverstreak twitched her whiskers.

"And you just decided that, did you?"

"Iz not a kit," Shimmer mewed indignantly. "Iz a big girl, an apprentice."

"You have to change your name, of course; you'll be Shimmerpaw from now on."

Shimmer's eyes narrowed. "No."

Silverstreak smiled slightly. "If you're going to be an apprentice, you have to abide by the rules, the warrior code. We'll have plenty of time to work on it, so don't—"

"No," Shimmer said again. "I not gonna change my name, neber. Mudder named me Shimmer 'n' Shimmer I is."

Silverstreak's tail lowered slightly. "Your mother isn't here, Shimmer," she said as gently as she could. "You're one of us now, okay? We'll take care of you, but you just have to follow our rules. You're like the life of a warrior, you'll see."

"But I don't wanna chance my name," Shimmer mewed, a slight whine to her voice. "Mudder name-ed me it."

Silverstreak reached out to touch Shimmer with her tail. The kit didn't flinch away. "It's okay, Shimmer, I promise; your mother will still know who you are, even if your name changes. She'll still love you, and Shimmer will still be part of your name. It will be half of you, just like the Clan will be half of you too."

Shimmer looked down at her paws. "O-okay," she mumbled. Silverstreak reached forward, giving Shimmer a motherly lick behind the ears.

"Come on, we don't want to keep them waiting," Silverstreak murmured. They retraced their steps, back to the old camp.

"That is an oak tree, which means it is full of oak leaves," Silverstreak explained. "We can just climb up there and grab them. They have to dry before they can be used, though, so you have to be careful."

Shimmer blinked slowly. "Kin I get dem?"

Silverstreak nodded. "This is a good chance for you to explore your boundaries a bit. You can climb the three and gather a few leaves, but don't try to carry them, just drop them down to me. Don't go too high, either, there's a chance you could slip."

Shimmer nodded, and surprisingly quickly shot up into the lowest branch. Her weight didn't move the old, thick branch at all; even the green leaves barely swayed. Silverstreak moved under the branch, catching leaves as they fluttered gently down once Shimmer plucked them neatly from the branch.

The kit quickly became bored with this meager task, and began bouncing on the branch, sending more leaves falling to the ground. Silverstreak frowned, nervous about Shimmer falling, but she pushed the fear away. Shimmer had proved she could take care of herself numerous times; not every kit could survive days without their mother.

It was when Shimmer began eying the higher branches that Silverstreak decided it was time for them to go.

"I think we have enough, come on down," she called. "We've still got poppy seeds to look for."

Shimmer's gaze flitted towards the branch above her head, and Silverstreak let out a gentle growl. "Don't even think about it," she warned. "I can climb faster than you, you know."

Shimmer hesitated, before conceding. She leaped down from the branch, landing somewhat awkwardly, but she didn't appear hurt. Gathering the oak leaves in her jaws, Silverstreak flicked her tail and padded back along the riverbank.

She followed a somewhat worn path, to a clump of the orange-black flowers. Shaking one gently with her paw, she sent black seeds falling to the ground. Shimmer padded forward, sniffing at the seeds.

"These take away pain, right?" she asked. Silverstreak nodded.

"They can make you sleepy, too…and I think they're bad for kits." She frowned, trying to remember everything Blackmoon and Ravenwing had taught her. "Be careful you don't swallow one on accident."

Shimmer nodded, and with the seeds in her jaws, she and Silverstreak headed back to camp.

Only after laying down the leaves in the sun to dry did Silverstreak feel hunger claw her belly. She let out a sigh, realizing that she was the only hunter for the group now.

_This was my idea, so it's my burden, _she thought stubbornly. She peeked into Forest's den; Forest was asleep, and Shimmer was rolling the poppy seeds around, feeling their texture and attempting to make a pile of the round seeds.

"I'm going hunting, I'll be back soon," she said. Shimmer acknowledged her with a flick of the ear, and Silverstreak left the den.

Padding into the forest once more, she couldn't help but feel weary. She had to feed Frostfeather, her kits, Reedrush, Blizzardkit, Shimmer, and Forest, as well as herself.

_Reedrush can help me tomorrow, _she decided. _Frostfeather can watch Blizzardkit; she isn't a good hunter anyway. I'm worried that Shimmer might try to follow me…but I'll deal with that if it happens, I suppose. _

Her ears swiveled, picking up the scent of prey, perhaps a bird. She crouched, creeping forward until her gaze settled on a thrush. It was preening itself, ignoring any danger. She licked her lips, imagining the taste of the bird. She struck suddenly, claws spearing the bird before it had a chance to move. She ended it with a bite, sighing with pleasure as the warm taste of fresh-kill filled her mouth. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to tear the bird open with her teeth.

_No,_ she thought, letting out a deep breath. _I have to feed my Clanmates first; Frostfeather is feeding three cats with every bite, and Reedrush is feeding Blizzardkit and herself. Not to mention little Shimmer and Forest…._

She buried the tempting prey, and continued on her way. The next thing to catch her nose was a water vole near the river. She fell into her hunting crouch again, only to blink in surprise as she heard the vole scamper away.

_Did I alert it? No, it couldn't be. I was silent, and the wind wasn't blowing towards it….It couldn't have seen me, I wasn't close enough. So...? _

The wind brought her answer, carrying with it a surprising scent. She rose to her paws, padding forward quickly, keeping close to the ground. The white pelt, familiar with its black paws, causing her stomach to tighten. She couldn't help but let out a hiss of hatred as she saw Northstar, staring into the river. It was still here, wide and shallow. He seemed to be gazing at his reflection, although she couldn't be certain. She moved slightly, trying to see his face. His eyes were puzzled, perhaps even worried.

_What has he to worry about? _She thought bitterly. For a moment, she thought he might still be debating over whether to tell PeakClan about Silverstreak and her friends; however, after seeing his expression after speaking with Shimmer, she was certain he had already made that decision. So, then, what was he so conflicted over now?

As she watched, he slashed at the river with one paw, sending water droplets flying into the air. His tail lashed with agitation, and when he rose to his paws and padded away, it was clear he still had not made any decision. She waited tensely as he slipped to the opposite bank, before ducking back into the safety of the brush.

She attempted to catch a mouse, which escaped, before finally snaring a robin. She was forced to content herself with a final catch of a plump mouse. With prey in tow, she retreated to camp.

She dropped the thrush and robin off with the queens to share, before passing the plump mouse to Forest and Shimmer. Shimmer was asleep, however, and Silverstreak decided not to wake her; she would eat in the morning.

Forest smiled at Silverstreak. "Want to share?"

She shook her head. "I already ate."

Forest laughed quietly. "A few days ago, you left for hours and came back with nothing. Am I to think that you left for half of that time, and came back with a full belly and prey for all? Don't lie, princess, it's unseemly for a leader. Come on and share this with me."

Silverstreak smiled and settled down, waiting for Forest to take the first bite before allowing herself a small one as well.

"You look shaken," Forest observed after swallowing. "What's wrong?"

Knowing he wouldn't swallow another lie, she mewed, "I saw Northstar near the river, on our side."

Forest blinked. "Do you think he knows we're here?"

She shook her head. "I'm certain he wasn't thinking of us; he seemed troubled and angry. I think something is going on in PeakClan."

"Maybe his news of us wasn't as gratifying as he thought?" Forest wondered. Silverstreak shrugged in reply, and they were quiet for a moment.

"Thanks for the prey," he murmured when they finished. Silverstreak nodded, and moved to settle into her den. Forest's touch of his tail against her leg surprised her.

"I'm glad you're here, with me," he said quietly. Silverstreak stared at him in surprised, and realized she was flushing.

"It's nothing," she said quickly, moving away from his touch. "I would do the same for any of my Clanmates."

"Even Death? Jag? Buck?" There was an edge to Forest's voice as he named the three toms, but Silverstreak didn't know what it meant. There was more to this question, but she didn't know what exactly he was asking.

"Y-yes," she stumbled. "I'd stay with any of my Clanmates that were injured, no matter what."

"I see." Forest dropped her gaze, staring at his paws. Silverstreak blinked, waiting for him to speak again, but he did not. She waited a moment longer, and moved to the side, retreating to her nest. She rested her head on her paws, watching him curiously, but his eyes were closed. Within moments his breath was even, although she wasn't sure if he was truly asleep or just pretending to avoid speaking.

_What was that about? _She wondered, but weariness clouded her thoughts. _I'll figure it out tomorrow, _she decided, shying away from her problems. _Perhaps I can…show Shimmer how to hunt…._

Within moments, she was gone.

**AN: Sorry, I've been really busy, I'll update the blog when I can. Thanks for the reviews, keep them coming! Also, I won't be updating this story much during November. For those that don't know, it's National Novel Writing Month, and I'll be participating in the competition! For anyone who is in NaNo, look me up! My username is princessleopard. You can find me in the forums a lot, mostly in the Adoptables section. For those that aren't in NaNo, you should try it! Visit nanowrimo(dot)org for information!**

**Sorry again for the wait!**


	24. C h a p t e r 23: Nightshade

**AN: So I just realized that my NaNo username is useless to you guys if you're trying to find me; sorry about that. My ID is 462055 so you can type that in instead of your own number when looking at your own profile.**

**Silly me.**

**C **_**h a p t e r**_** 23: Nightshade**

She felt Blight nibble her ear, and smiled, blinking slowly. His golden eye burned into hers as her vision cleared itself of sleep.

"Hello," she murmured, licking his whiskers respectfully. She felt him let out a low, rumbling purr, and after giving her ear a nip, he rose to his paws.

"Are we going to Slaughter now?" She asked, ears pricked. "You said we would need to go to him soon?"

"Not yet, pet," he purred, brushing his tail against her muzzle. "Be patient. There is much to do here, first."

She frowned. "Aren't we going to fight against StarClan? Shouldn't we return home so that we may help Slaughter with his fight?"

Blight's eye flashed. "Are you questioning the Master?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft. Nightshade flattened her stomach to the ground in submission.

"Of course not," she mumbled. "My loyalty is to you. I trust the Master."

He nodded. "Good. Now, come with me. There is something I want you to see."

Obediently, she rose to her paws and followed him out of the den, then out of the camp entirely. Her ears pricked again with interest; it wasn't often that she was allowed to leave camp; Blight was concerned for her safety. Now, it appeared she would learn why.

"Be quiet, and tread carefully," Blight growled, transitioning smoothly into a crouch. She followed him closely, her eyes widened at what she saw before her.

It was a group of rogues, living in this forest together. She saw at least six – a bit male, his pelt a mix of shades of brown, a smaller chocolate-brown tom, a pale golden tom, a ginger she-cat, a white she-cat with ginger markings on her muzzle, and a calico – and then several more as she continued to glance around – two kits, one ginger, one black, as well as another tom lying down nearby, also black.

"There are more of them, but they're hunting," Blight growled. Nightshade blinked at him, confused.

"What does this mean?" she asked. "Why should I see them?"

"Unfortunately, Scorch and Barb died here," Blight said slowly. "They were mad and dangerous, I had to put them down. You remember."

Nightshade blinked, Barb's insane face flashing behind her eyelids. She nodded, and Blight continued, "there's always a chance other patrols were killed as well. Slaughter needs as many warriors as he can gather. I was only sent here to scout for him, but I believe we can do so much more, don't you? If we can seize control of these rouges, they'll follow us; rouge bands work that way, they follow a single leader, they don't care who. If I can become that leader – or set someone else up to become it – then they'll follow us without a doubt, you see?"

Nightshade nodded. She glanced around the camp, trying to see who was the leader.

"Leaders in rogue bands are always male," Blight growled. "The ginger tom seems to be a likely candidate."

She nodded; the others seemed to eye the ginger tom with respect. There was also wariness there, however, and for some reason Nightshade knew he was not the leader. Her gaze strayed over the others slowly. The chocolate was too small and seemingly fragile to be leader. The black tom lying to the side seemed distant, probably new to the group. So, that only left the mixed-brown tom. Watching him, she felt certain of it; there was a gentle strength in his green gaze as he watched his followers, like that of a father watching over his kits.

"That one," she whispered, flicking her tail, and Blight nodded.

There was movement to the left, a rustle of leaves, as a broad-shouldered gray tom strode into camp. He carried prey in his jaws, dropping them in the center of camp. No cat moved, until the ginger kit suddenly darted forward, grabbing a small mouse and dragging it away. He did not eat it as Nightshade had expected, but rather dragged it to the smaller black kit, who Nightshade assumed was her sister. The ginger kit waited for his sister to take a tentative bite, before he followed suit. Nightshade smiled at the sweetness of it, then glanced at Blight.

"We're killing the brown tom?" she asked. Blight nodded.

"First, we must become one of them," he meowed. "We gain their trust, allow ourselves to become important in their group. Then, we kill him and seize power."

"Understood."

Blight abruptly rose to his paws, padding away. Nightshade blinked and followed him. Blight was not headed in the direction of camp. Rather, he padded down a strange sort of trail, before settling at the base of an ash tree.

"What are we doing?"

Blight's eye narrowed, but he let the question slide. "For the past few days, I've been catching prey in this area and leaving it here, unburied. This way I make them think that this is part of my routine; they know I am here. They don't know whether or not I am hostile. This time, my routine will be a little late and they will find me, as they have been trying to do since this began. We'll join them, and they will not be suspicious. Simple as that."

Nightshade blinked slowly, and smiled at him. "You're planning is excellent," she purred, admiration dripping into her voice. Her pelt tingled as he fixed her with his single golden eye.

A rustle to their left made his ear flick, and he tensed, pelt bristling.

"Who goes there?" he snarled.

A pale ginger head appeared, and Nightshade recognized the dangerous golden tom. His amber eyes narrowed as he saw the two of them, and he let out a hiss.

"Finally caught you," he growled. "You're not running off this time…although I didn't expect a she-cat to be with you."

Blight's pelt bristled, but he quickly flattened it. "I guess there's no point in running away now," he said; his act was perfect, enraged and with a hint of fear underlining his voice. "What do you want?"

"We want to know why you've been hunting on our territory!" the golden tom snarled.

Blight blinked, the picture of surprise. "We, you say?"

"There's a whole band of us here, all powerful fighters," the golden tom growled, a note of smugness in his voice. "Come with me. Tremor will want to see that I've caught you."

Nightshade glanced at Blight; for a moment she was surprised that his plan had worked so easily, but she brushed the doubt away. How could she have doubted the Master, he who knew all, saw all?

Blight and Nightshade followed the golden warrior back to camp. Nightshade tried to look surprised at all the cats in camp.

"I never realized there were so many of you," she mewed to the golden tom innocently. "Who is Tremor?"

Her question was answered for her as the mixed-brown tom strode forward. "You finally found them, eh Griffin?"

Griffin nodded. "I didn't know there was a she-cat, but apparently she's with the tom."

"I see." Tremor studied them with keen green eyes. "Rumble," he called. "What do you think?"

The chocolate tom approached slowly. Nightshade blinked when she saw his eyes; they were a milky, pale green.

"I'm blind," Rumble explained, turning towards her as if he could feel her stare. "I can feel vibrations and such in the ground, though; I can tell who is coming from fox-lengths away, even in no wind, and finding prey is easy. Tremor here is my brother." Rumble seemed to study them for a moment. He frowned, but his expression cleared as he turned his muzzle towards Tremor. "I can't seem to feel anything from them."

"Bad or good?" Tremor asked. Rumble shrugged.

"Neither. I'm not getting anything."

_Getting something? What does he mean? Does he had some sort of supernatural sense? _She wondered. A chill shot through her fur. _Is he connected with StarClan?_

She had to restrain herself from letting out a growl, and springing at the small tom.

"Strange…still, they don't seem to be a threat," Tremor mused. "We'll allow them to stay."

"Stay?" Blight demanded, and Nightshade could have sworn he was truly angry, even though she knew it was an act. "Who said we wanted to stay with you?"

"This is our territory," Tremor said simply. "It is rich, fertile. If you want to stay here you have to join us, or get out of the forest."

Blight's eye narrowed. "We have no other choice?"

Tremor shook his head, and Blight sighed. "We'll have to stay," he meowed bitterly. "My mate, Nightshade, is with kits…finding good territory to support them is too difficult, too risky…we'll stay until she has them, in about a moon and a half, then until the kits are old enough to survive a journey. Then, we're leaving."

Tremor seemed amused, as if there was some joke they weren't getting. "All of the cats who join us claim they will leave, but they never do," he purred. "Still, you are welcome to stay as long as you like. I suppose introductions are in order. As you know, my name is Tremor; I lead this band. Rumble is my brother and our healer, since Sprig died. Griffin is my second-in-command; that ginger she-cat over there is his sister, Phoenix."

Nightshade glanced at the ginger she-cat, who gave the two of them a warm smile.

"The other two she-cats are Swansong and Primrose," he indicated the white and calico she-cats, "and that black tom is Scorpion. The gray tom is Shredder."

"And the two kits?" Blight asked curiously.

"The ginger kit is Pyro, the black is named Merla," Rumble mewed. His voice was soft, but warm. "Swansong and Primrose found them after they escaped from their Twolegs. Pyro and Merla won't say where they came from, but they regard Swansong and Primrose as their mothers."

"I see," Blight said slowly. Nightshade glanced at him, watching his eye trace over Swansong's pretty form. For a brief moment, she felt a flare of jealousy, but she firmly quenched it. The Master was not her possession; it was only right that he could pick whoever he chose to become his mate.

"And you two?"

"I am Blight, and this is my mate, Nightshade," Blight growled. If either of the toms thought it was odd that Nightshade did not speak, they didn't show it.

Tremor flicked his tail to the other waiting cats. "These two cats are Blight and Nightshade; they will be staying with us until Nightshade delivers her kits and feels she can move."

The ginger female, Phoenix, let out a warm purr as she padded towards them. "Congratulations!" she exclaimed. "Cute kits stumbling around camp are always adorable. Merla, you might have competition!" She glanced over her shoulder at the black kit, who blinked at her shyly.

Nightshade gave Phoenix a nervous smile, which seemed to be enough to placate the kind-hearted she-cat.

Primrose padded forward, blinking at Nightshade. She had a pleasant face, although she seemed a bit dull-witted. Swansong stood by her side; her blue gaze was sharp as she stared at Nightshade, then Blight. A slight smile curled her muzzle; she liked what she saw.

Pyro padded forward, a cocky grin on his bright muzzle. "So you're gonna have kits, huh?" he asked brightly. "Did the stars bring them to you too?"

Nightshade blinked, puzzled, and Primrose smiled gently.

"Of course the stars appeared to her and gave her the kits," she said, licking Pyro's ear. "How else would she get them?"

Merla peeked shyly from behind the two queens, staring at Nightshade with eyes of gold. The black tom hadn't moved from his position lying down, and the gray tom was keeping his distance as well."

"It looks like you and Shredder aren't the newest ones anymore, Scorpion," Phoenix called to the black tom. "Maybe now the two of you will settle down, huh?"

Griffin's eyes narrowed slightly, and Nightshade realized he didn't like the two toms, and he probably wouldn't like Blight either; they were dangerous if the golden tom wanted to maintain his power over the group and succeed Tremor when the brown tom retired.

Scorpion simply grunted in reply, still not moving.

"How are the, ah, sleeping arrangements?" Blight asked.

"Each smaller group has their own den; you two would normally dig your own, but since Nightshade is with kits one of us can," Tremor offered. Blight shook his head.

"Not necessary," he replied, and flicked his tail to Nightshade. "I'll make it over here."

Nightshade followed him, glancing over her shoulder nervously, feeling their eyes upon her. She sat down, watching as Blight expertly dug out the soft, silky dirt.

"We'll be glad to have a few more paws, after the last raid," Phoenix purred, starling Nightshade.

"Raid?" she echoed.

Phoenix blinked. "I'm surprised you haven't seen them. A cat named Maggot runs a group of rogues that are trying to take our territory from us. We're in constant conflict with them; Sprig died during the last raid, along with Patch."

Blight turned towards her. "There are other rogues here?" Nightshade could tell from the look in his single eye that he was interested, very much so.

_If these rogues won't help us fight against Slaughter, Maggot might be a viable alternative, _Nightshade thought.

"Sprig is the one who taught me about herbs, and opened my eyes to the stars," Rumble said sorrowfully. Nightshade nearly jumped with surprise; his small paws were almost silent.

_Stars? _She thought, and glanced at Blight. _Are these cats aligned with the evil StarClan? They don't seem to be evil…unless it is a trick? Or perhaps they are simply misguided souls? Blight and I might be able to help them! We could make a difference, maybe save them from StarClan!_

Her eyes glowed at the thought, but Blight appeared distracted.

"Taught you of herbs, you say?" he asked. "And stars?"

Rumble nodded. "She said there were starry cats walking the skies, and it was true," he meowed, "and she helped me learn much about herbs. I saved my friends here from wounds that would have been fatal."

"What did she look like?" Blight's eye was narrowed, and Nightshade blinked at him, confused.

"She had thick, short, black fur," Rumble remembered, "and very pretty green eyes, I remember that. They had flecks of gold in them, yes…they'd always glow when I said something right. Once I told her that she should have been named Leaf for them, because they were so beautiful, but it seemed to sadden her. She was old and a little past her prime…perhaps she had lost a mate who told her the same thing, I'm not sure, but I didn't mention it again."

"And she's dead? You're certain?"

Rumble closed his sightless eyes in sadness. "Yes. Even though her knowledge had helped me save many lives, in the end I couldn't save her from her wounds, nor Patch." He opened his eyes once more, but there was a flicker to them; he was hiding something. The sorrow in his eyes was real – Nightshade was certain that Sprig, whoever she had been, was dead. However, there was more to it than Rumble was willing to share.

_Understandable, since we're strangers to him, _she thought, _and yet still somewhat suspicious. Perhaps when he trusts us more, he'll open up? _

Blight made a small noise, a musing sound, before blinking. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said warmly, the tip of his tail touching Rumble's side. Rumble smiled, and Blight returned to his digging.

He was soon finished, and stepped aside to allow Nightshade to enter. She did so, and Blight padded in behind her. She saw Phoenix give a bright smile, before Blight blocked the entrance with his body.

"Rest," he ordered. "I need to speak to them about this…Sprig cat. It's important."

Nightshade blinked. "Can't I listen?"

His eye narrowed. "Are you questioning me again?"

Her ears flattened. "N-no, do what you must," she mumbled, casting her eyes downward. Blight turned away, and Nightshade settled down, resting her head in the dirt. Blight stared at her for a moment, before padding away. Nightshade closed her eyes, listening to his footsteps recede.

. . .

"Hey," a bright voice chirped. Nightshade blinked awake, realizing with some surprise that she had fallen asleep.

Phoenix was watching her with curious green eyes. "Aren't you hungry? It's been hours, I'm surprised you slept. It's still early today, you know."

"Blight told me to," Nightshade said simply. "Where is he? Has he eaten? I can't eat before him."

Phoenix shot her a questioning look, but Nightshade glanced away from her, refusing to answer her wondering stare.

"Well, I think he went hunting with Swansong…so they're probably eating together," she answered slowly. "Come on, you can share something with me." She smiled warmly. Nightshade hesitated – she didn't want to break Blight's rules – but at the same time, her stomach was clenched with hunger. It was nothing like the hunger from the dark times, back when she had been doused in StarClan's evil, but it was discomforting nevertheless.

"Okay," she said quietly, rising to her paws. Then, she blinked. "Which one is Swansong, again?"

"She's the white one, with the ginger markings on her muzzle," Phoenix said kindly. "She's nice enough, but a little strange; she's mute, you see."

Nightshade let out a sigh, feeling relief rush over her. Blight wouldn't be interested in a mute, no matter how beautiful. Her savior was still hers alone.

She smiled, suddenly in a much better mood. "Let's eat."

She followed Phoenix out of the den, ignoring the curious looks from the rest of the group. Phoenix picked out a plump pigeon, and sat down a little ways away from the others, underneath a broad branch. Nightshade followed, keeping out of the shade just slightly, smiling as the sun warmed her pelt.

Phoenix plucked a few feathers away from the body, before smiling at Nightshade. "Go ahead," she purred.

She blinked, surprised to be allowed the first bite – Blight always claimed the first and last, opening and closing their meals together – but she obliged, taking a slow bite of the prey. She closed her eyes in contentment, chewing the tender meat. Since she had been saved and brought to the light, everything seemed to much brighter to her eyes. Occasionally the image of Robin appeared in her mind, but it always melted away when she saw Blight's face.

"Nightshade?" Blight's rasp made her jump to her paws. She blinked at him in fright; he wasn't pleased. A mouse was clutched in his jaws.

"What did I tell you?" he hissed, shoving his face into hers. Swansong's sweet scent wafted into Nightshade's nose, and she gagged. Trembling, Nightshade flattened her ears and turned away slightly, averting her gaze.

"I-I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I thought you and Swansong already…." She trailed off, seeing the anger crackling in his gaze.

"Swansong and I were hunting for the others," he said icily. "I have not yet eaten."

Nightshade took a step back, indicating the pigeon. "You can have my share." She glanced at Phoenix's puzzled face, before meowing, "it's getting late, I should be going back to the den. Thank you for the food, Phoenix, I appreciate it."

Feeling Blight's stare on her pelt, she ducked back into the den, ignoring the hunger clawing her stomach and Swansong's scent clogging her nose.

_I only scented her because she was hanging around nearby, _she consoled herself. _That was the only reason._

_It has to be._

. . .

The sounds of battle caused Nightshade to wake. She stared at the wall for a moment, her vision blurry as she slowly came around. She rose to her paws, peeking nervously out of the den.

A bloody sight greeted her eyes. She saw fierce Griffin evenly matched against an enormous silver tabby, simple Primrose going toe-to-toe with a tortoiseshell, and even mute Swansong holding her own. Nightshade let out a vindictive purr of pleasure as Swansong received a slash to her muzzle, only to blink in surprise as Swansong chased her opponent away with a fierce flurry of swipes.

_They're strong, for kittypets, _she thought, _but then again, so am I._

She searched the battle for Blight, spotting his scarred gray pelt. He was fighting fiercely against a black she-cat. As he chased her away, he paused for a moment, and seemed to be searching for someone. Nightshade realized he was looking for the true action, the leadership. His eyes narrowed, and she followed his gaze to see him locking eyes with a white tom. The tom's amber eyes flashed, and he suddenly let out a yowl.

"My cats, retreat!" he howled, and almost immediately the battle halted as a stream of cats flowed out of the camp from every exit. The white tom – Maggot – lingered for a moment, still staring at Blight, before he followed his troops.

Nightshade moved to go to Blight, only to realize that Swansong was looking in the same direction. Letting out a hiss in Swansong's direction, Nightshade touched Blight with her tail.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Blight's own tail flicked with irritation.

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"You fought well," Griffin rumbled, coming up to them. His nose was slashed and bleeding freely, as were several wounds on his hindquarters, but he didn't seem bothered by the pain. "I expected as much, for your fighting abilities. However, I was surprised that you fought for our side, not Maggot's, or simply running away."

Blight dipped his head to the golden tabby. "We're with you, for the next few moons. It only seemed proper to defend your camp."

Griffin did not smile, but his amber eyes gleamed with respect. He gave Blight a slight nod, before padding towards Rumble.

Nightshade realized that Rumble had not a mark on his pelt, but he was preparing herbs to treat the wounded. Glancing around, she could not see any serious wounds amongst the group; it hadn't been a true battle, merely a skirmish.

"Maggot was testing Tremor's new recruits," Blight murmured to her. "I suppose we passed the rest if they retreated. That's good; we're that much further into the ranks here, and we've earned his respect as well. Or, rather, I have." His eye narrowed. "You did not fight."

Nightshade's ears flattened. "At my original home, I was one of the stronger she-cats, but fighting amongst ourselves wasn't common. We were united in love for Mother."

Blight's eye narrowed, and Nightshade cast her eyes downward. "I mean, in loyalty to the Twoleg who cared for us. But, compared to cats who have fought their entire lives…I'm nothing."

Blight nodded slowly. "True. But you'll learn from the best. We'll have a lot of time before they realize you aren't pregnant at all. We need to spend that time training, in case Tremor is stronger than he appears."

Nightshade dipped her head, and Blight padded towards Rumble to receive care for his wounds. Nightshade hesitated, feeling out of place. Rumble turned towards her, as if sensing her discomfort.

"You aren't injured, are you?" he asked, opening his mouth as if to scent her. She shook her head, before realizing he couldn't see it.

"No," she mewed, drawing closer. Rumble smiled again, kindness radiating from his blind eyes.

"It's alright, you can help me; I'll name the herbs and you give them to me, okay?"

Nightshade mumbled her agreement, sitting down beside him.

"Hmm," Rumble mused, brushing his paw lightly over a thin scratch on Primrose's flank. "Just a dab of marigold for this one, I think. They're the flowers; bright orange."

Nightshade stared at him, mystified – could he smell colors? – before Rumble let out a quiet purr.

"Tremor told me the colors of things, to help me tell others what I need," he explained. "Come on, give them here. Chew them into a pulp first, and I'll dab them on the injury."

Obediently, Nightshade took a small mouthful of the bright leaves, chewing them until her mouth filled with juice. Careful not to swallow, she dribbled the juice and pulp into his paws. He rubbed some of it into Primrose's scratch, then another in her shoulder.

It took some time for Nightshade to help Rumble tend to all of the wounds, but it didn't take much awareness; she simply reached for what he asked, and chewed when she was told. Her mind was awhirl with thoughts – mostly dark ones concerning Swansong's pretty face – and she nearly sprang with surprise when Rumble nudged her with his shoulder, telling her they were finished.

She rose to her paws slowly and turned to look for Phoenix, hoping to have a re-do on their meal, only to find her gaze locked on Blight. He flicked his tail before padding into the forest. She followed him quickly, with a nervous glance over her shoulder. She quickly caught up to him, but stayed a pawstep behind, allowing him to have the lead. He led her to a small clearing with thick, soft grass. Nearby she could hear the sound of running water.

"We're starting training now," Blight growled. He moved into the center of the clearing, his movements confident and sharp as he turned towards her. "Attack me."

She hesitated, then unsheathed her claws and moved towards him slowly. She raised her paw as if to strike him, only to grit her teeth and let her paw fall to the ground. An image flashed in her mind – Blight's sharp claws pricking her flesh, blows raining down upon her as she struggled to fight back, struggled to get to the entrance of the tunnel – before she blocked them out.

"I can't," she mumbled. Blight let out a hiss, and before she could move she felt his claws lash out against her muzzle. She flattened herself to the ground, and he struck her again, hitting her face so hard that her neck snapped to the side. She let out a whimper of pain.

"Fight back," Blight snarled. "No warrior is going to take pity on you out here!" He struck her again, his claws digging into her shoulder, knocking her to the side. Her soft belly was exposed, and he took advantage, raking his talons down the length of it. She let out a sharp hiss of pain, but remained limp; hadn't she only been hurt worse all the times she had struggled against him? Hadn't he only stopped once he had gotten tired or proven his point?

"Fight back!" Blight roared. "Did you see Swansong fight? She would have ripped that tom's muzzle off without a second thought. In a real battle, you will die and she will live. Do you want to die?"

The thought of Swansong kindled a fire in Nightshade's heart. Rage filled her, coursed through her veins, and suddenly her claws were swiping over Blight's chest. His eyes widened in surprise, and she stopped in shock as blood bubbled up from the scratches. They were shallow, but the smell of blood hit her like a Twoleg monster. She stared at him, afraid of the rage she knew would explode from inside of him.

Blight seemed just as shocked as she was. He stared down at his chest, then to her. And then, he smiled.

"Good," he growled. "At least you can do something. You can't be helpless, understand? In battle it is kill or be killed." His golden eye softened slightly, and his tongue rasped against her ear. "I don't want you to be killed, pet."

Nightshade relaxed under his touch, even as her scratches stung and burned. "I don't want to die either."

"Then you have to be strong, understand?" Blight's voice was soft. "You're a warrior for good, aren't you? You're not a sickly kittypet. You're not a weak warrior for StarClan. You are Slaughter's soldier, and you must act like one."

She nodded. "I understand." She rose to her paws, facing Blight. "I am a soldier."

Blight smiled. "Then I shall train you as one."

. . .

When they returned to camp in the evening, Nightshade ached from Blight's blows. It was not a sad ache, however, but a pleasant one; as they had trained, Blight had been unable to hit her as often, or as hard. She was improving under his training, she was certain. If she trained each day and sustained injuries, she would only become that much stronger. She padded towards Rumble with a smile on her face, as Blight headed into the forest once more to hunt for himself.

He blinked at the scent of blood, but asked no questions when she did not speak, tending to her wounds quickly and efficiently.

"Sprig always had me to help her," he said thoughtfully as he worked. "There are so many of us, she needed an assistant, someone to learn. With my blindness, I am weak, vulnerable. I might need someone to help me."

Nightshade didn't answer the implied question. Rumble paused, studying her.

"You are bearing Blight's kits," he said slowly. "Does that make you happy?"

She thought for a moment, imagining herself with Blight's kits swelling her belly. The thought made her fur tingle. "Yes."

"He is good to you?"

"Yes."

"He doesn't…he isn't…." Rumble trailed off, trying to collect his thoughts. "He isn't hurting you?"

"We were just training," Nightshade answered. "I'm not a very good fighter; I used to be a kittypet. He wants me to become stronger so I can defend myself…so I can defend our kits."

"It seems he was a little hard on you," Rumble said, touching her flank with one paw. "Perhaps too hard."

"The harder I must fight, the stronger I become."

"There is a limit to how much damage you can take," he mewed gently. "If he goes too far, come to me. I'll help you."

Nightshade smiled. "He cannot – would not – go too far."

Rumble gave her flank a final dab of marigold, and sat back. "You can go."

Nightshade thanked him and rose to her paws. Blight was eating prey, but she knew better than to ask to share with him; when he was hungry he would eat everything, leaving her the scraps. It was his right as the Master, but she was hungry as well. She saw Phoenix and smiled. Phoenix smiled back, tapping her tail against the empty spot next to her, indicating the frog she had between her paws. Nightshade padded forward and sat down by the ginger she-cat, taking a tentative bite of the prey.

They shared their meal together with little tension between them. Phoenix didn't appear angry about the interruption of the day before; she chatted about this and that as they ate. Nightshade didn't have to listen, simply agreeing now and again, as she gazed into the darkness of the forest. She saw a pair of eyes, and her own eyes narrowed. The two toms Scorpion and Shredder appeared, with prey in their jaws. As they had the day before, they allowed the kit Pyro to take a piece to his sister, presumably to share with Primrose and Swansong as well, although she couldn't see where Swansong was at that moment. Nightshade felt Phoenix tense, and she glanced at her. Phoenix was watching Scorpion as he sat down with his gray friend, the two of them sharing a rabbit. There was a longing in Phoenix's eyes that Nightshade understood. Then, Phoenix's eyes flicked to Griffin, her brother, and Nightshade started with surprise at the intense hatred in Griffin's eyes, directed towards the black tom. Griffin was sitting near Tremor's den, his tail curled around his paws, staring at Scorpion's back.

_Scorpion and Shredder are somewhat new, probably having been here for a moon or so, _Nightshade thought. _Phoenix is warm and caring, she must have approached Scorpion and Shredder. Griffin wouldn't have liked that, he's obviously protective of her. And now…._

She swallowed, realizing that she had just eaten the last bit of meat from the frog. Phoenix glanced back at Nightshade, and gave a purr.

"We were hungry, huh?" she asked, rising to her paws. "It's getting late, I'm going to sleep. Goodnight, hopefully we can eat again tomorrow!" With that, the ginger she-cat padded away, disappearing into a sandy den that she doubtlessly shared with Griffin.

Nightshade was motionless for a moment, until her own body demanded rest. She walked over to her den, glancing over her shoulder to see that Blight was following her, having returned to camp although he held no prey in his jaws. She padded inside and curled up in the back, waiting for him. His muscular body blocked the sun's dying light, and she saw his fangs gleam.

"I'm tired, aren't you?" he asked, and she nodded, letting out a purr as his tongue rasped against her neck. "Do you want to sleep?"

Nightshade smiled up at him and shook her head. He smiled back.

"Good. Neither do I."

. . .

She woke up with her face pressed against his side. She moved slightly, so that her muzzle was resting against his ribs, letting out a deep sigh of contentment. Her wounds still ached slightly, but it was dull; she could take a poppy seed and be fine. She turned, staring at Blight's face. It was relaxed and gentle in sleep, as he breathed in and out evenly. A slight smile curled his muzzle, and Nightshade hoped he was dreaming of her.

Taking care not to wake the Master, she slipped out of the den, blinking at the bright morning light; the sun was close to its peak.

"Good morning!" Phoenix chirped, nosing her shoulder. "How are you?"

Thinking of the night before, Nightshade couldn't help but purr. "Well, thank you."

"Hungry?" the ginger she-cat inquired, but Nightshade glanced into her den and shook her head. "Blight hasn't eaten yet."

Phoenix frowned. "Why does that matter? He was angry with you the other day, I don't understand that. What did you do wrong?"

"He always eats before me, because he needs his strength to hunt," Nightshade explained.

"Can't you hunt too? I mean, once your stomach grows you can't…but that will be for awhile. Can't you hunt for yourself?"

Nightshade sighed; Phoenix couldn't understand her relationship with her Master, and Nightshade didn't want to worry her new friend. "It's complicated," she said finally with a little shrug. Phoenix nodded slowly, her green eyes still vaguely troubled. "I guess you'll share prey with him when you wake up, then." Phoenix moved to go speak to Primrose, leaving Nightshade feeling faintly upset; had she done something wrong? Had she angered her only friend in this group?

"Good morning," Blight's deep rumble startled her. He rubbed his muzzle against hers. "Shall we eat? We have more training to do, yes?"

Nightshade nodded, trailing after him as he selected a young finch from the small pile of prey. They sat down together in a shaded area of the camp, and began to eat. Blight ate quickly, his golden eye bright. She followed his gaze towards Swansong, who was sunning self on a smooth stone. Nightshade's eyes narrowed, and she felt hatred flutter through her, before Blight's eyes returned to his prey.

"Something wrong, pet?" he inquired as he noticed her staring at him.

"No, nothing," she said quickly, looking down at her paws. "I'm just tired, I suppose."

"As am I," Blight said with a slight laugh. Nightshade smiled, heartened by his cheer. She had done well.

"Ready?" Blight asked, licking his whiskers. Nightshade glanced down at the prey, seeing only bones, and nodded. Together, they padded out of camp.

They returned to the clearing they had trained in the day before, and Blight wasted no time. He sprang at her, slashing to the right before striking to her left. She managed to avoid the brunt of the blow, although his claws grazed her shoulder. She struck back, aiming for his muzzle, but he evaded her with a turn of his head. He moved faster than she could react, burying his fangs in her shoulder. Letting out a gasp of pain, she pummeled his side and stomach with her paws, forcing him to release her. Her shoulder ached, and she took a step back, favoring her other side. Blight smiled, sensing weakness, and lunged forward knocking her to the ground.

She slashed at his stomach, forcing him to back off, but not before he slashed her ear.

The training continued for hours, until she was ready to collapse. Finally they faced each other, panting, and Blight smiled. He had few marks on his pelt compared to hers, but hers were fewer than the day before.

"Kittypet or not, you're a fighter," he meowed. He glanced up at the sky, and Nightshade did as well; the sun was beginning to sink.

"Go on back to camp," he meowed. "I'll hunt for myself."

She nodded, and headed back to camp.

Rumble frowned as she entered his den. "You're limping."

"Training again," she explained. She sat down, waiting for him to move, but he did not.

"I don't like this."

She cocked her head to the side, wincing as the movement hurt her injured ear. "What?"

"Blight is hurting you," he said gently. "He isn't even using his full force against you; if he was, you'd be dead. I can see his power even without vision. He's just playing with you. He enjoys it."

"He's training me so I can defend myself!" Nightshade growled. "You don't understand."

"Don't be angry," he mewed. "I'm not trying to hurt you. But you need to see this, okay? Blight isn't good for you, he's hurting you." She felt his tail touch her flank. "He's hurt you before."

Nightshade shook her head. "No," she said stubbornly. "No. Blight loves me. He saved me, don't you understand? He purified me, he made me good. He helped me cleanse away the evil."

"Evil is inside everyone," Rumble said softly. "Some more than others. You can't cleanse it, you can only hide it. You're denying it, and that won't help you. He's just using you to get what he wants, a servant who will do whatever he says and please him however he wishes."

For a moment, a whisper of doubt crossed Nightshade's mind. Then, fury crackled across her pelt, and she snarled. "Don't talk about my Master that way!" she screeched, raking her claws over his muzzle. Rumble didn't move out of the way, didn't strike back, simply fell to the side with the force of her blow. He sat up slowly, blood oozing from the scratches, watching her with unseeing eyes. Feeling sickened, Nightshade fled.

She felt Phoenix's eyes on her pelt, but she ignored her, racing back into the forest. If she could find Blight, he would make everything well again, make her whole, make the doubts stay away forever. She felt sickened that she had doubted him, sickened that she had struck defenseless Rumble.

She raced towards the clearing where they had trained, scenting him on the wind. Then, she froze, as another scent reached her nose.

Swansong.

She slowed to almost a crawl, peeking through the fern fronds. Blight was there, lying on his side. Swansong was resting her muzzle against him, exactly as Nightshade had that morning. As she watched, Swansong purred with pleasure as Blight's tongue touched her neck.

Rage like Nightshade had never felt before licked her veins light fire. She was suddenly aware of the blood pounding in her ears, the taste of blood in her mouth, a haze of anger obscuring her vision.

_Last night, _she thought in the back of her mind. _Last night, same time, said he was hunting. Swansong was missing them too, they must have been…and then he came to me…._

She had to clamp her jaws shut to restrain from shrieking her anger. _You! _She thought, surprised that Swansong had not caught on fire from the heat of her gaze. _You ugly foxdung filled monster! You've stolen him from me!_ A hiss escaped her before she wheeled around, running back to camp as quickly as her legs would carry her.

She felt their eyes on her as she burst into camp, but she did not care. She was in her den in an instant, crouched and trembling, seeing Swansong and Blight in her mind, hearing Swansong's hideous tinkling laugh ringing in her ears.

_You, _she thought. _You you you. This is my fault, I shouldn't have doubted him. I gave you room to come in and steal him, didn't I? I can't let it happen again. I have to be there for him._

_I have to take care of you. I have to end you._ She rested her head on her paws, and waited.

Blight came into the den later than night, unaware he had been discovered. Nightshade opened her eyes to see him watching her. She smiled and moved to the side, allowing him to settle down beside her. She nestled against his side, purring, and he licked her ear.

"I love you," she murmured into his fur.

"You're my favorite, pet, you know that."

She fell asleep with her head resting against his side.

. . .

She shared a meal with him, as she had the morning before. Today, however, he seemed vaguely distracted. His gaze kept flitting over to Primrose, as if looking for Swansong. Nightshade kept her eyes on him, but neither of them spoke a word.

When he rose for their training session, she mewed nervously, "Do you think we could skip that today?"

He looked at her curiously. "What for, my dear?"

She shrugged. "I'm a little sore," she confessed, "and tired. Phoenix says Maggot doesn't attack very often, only perhaps twice a moon. I'll be ready by then, I think."

Blight considered it for a moment, finally nodding. "Of course you can rest, pet," he meowed, licking her ear again. "You've been working hard." He scrutinized her a moment. "Your wounds from our training session the other day don't look very well. Perhaps Rumble should look at them." The sound in his voice alerted her that this was not a request; he would allow her to rest today, but she was still his, and he would look after her. She nodded, warmth flaring in her stomach – at least he cared, perhaps he wasn't lost to her – and she rose to her paws.

She approached Rumble's den timidly, sure that he would turn her away. When he turned his misty eyes towards her, his face was gentle.

"Hello, Nightshade," he meowed. "I'm sorry I didn't treat you yesterday, I should have." He spoke easily, as if the events of the day before had never happened.

"I'm sorry," Nightshade murmured. "I shouldn't have struck you."

"I won't tell," the chocolate tom replied. He didn't apologize for his accusations of Blight, but relief made Nightshade allow it to slide. She moved to sit beside him, and he ran his paws over her fur, searching out the wounds and tending to them. She relaxed slightly under his soothing touch; he applied no pressure to her wounds, only tenderness as his keen paws found the injured spots. _He's experienced and kind, _she thought. _He meant well when he spoke of Blight; he was only trying to protect me…but I don't need protection. I am good now. Perhaps I can help Rumble see the light as well, and Phoenix too. They're my friends here, aren't they?_

Once Rumble finished, Nightshade rose to her paws. She headed for the entrance, pausing as Rumble said,

"If you're ever in trouble, come find me. I'll do what I can."

She turned, staring into his calm face, and nodded. "I will."

Rumble gave her the smallest nod, and she left the den.

It was only sunhigh, so Nightshade settled down by herself with a mouse. She nibbled at it half-heartedly, watching the sun go down. She half-hoped Phoenix would join her, but the ginger she-cat was nowhere to be seen.

By the time she finished her mouse, it was nearly evening. _Close enough. _

Silently, she slipped out of camp, weaving through the ferns and branches until she reached the clearing. No one was there, but she settled herself down to wait. She didn't have to wait long. Within moments, a white shape slinked into camp, her white fur groomed to perfection, glimmering in the fading light. Hatred welled up inside of her, and before she could stop herself she had walked into the clearing. Swansong's pretty blue eyes widened, but she didn't move.

"Mute," Nightshade hissed in disgust. "How could he do that with you?"

Swansong stared at her silently, finally dropping her gaze to her paws. The silent concession enraged Nightshade even more, and she leaped forward, pinning Swansong down with her claws. Swansong's mouth opened in surprise.

"You can't have him," Nightshade spat. "He saved me. He's _mine!" _Hatred coursed through her veins, and she snarled. She imagined them together again, Swansong and Blight, Blight's look in his eyes when he gazed at her, her laugh when he touched her, their pelts touching, and she let out a screech of rage. Before Swansong to react, Nightshade plunged her fangs into Swansong's throat, tasting Swansong's blood as it flowed into her mouth. Swansong struggled weakly, but she could do nothing in her vulnerable position. Nightshade's eyes narrowed as Swansong's own eyes began to glaze over. She let out a gurgle, and went limp.

Nightshade spat out a mouthful of blood, adrenaline still pumping through her veins. She stared down at Swansong's body disbelievingly, before springing to her paws and racing away.

Where could she go now? She couldn't go to camp, not as a murderer. They would know, wouldn't they? They would figure it out and kill her like she had killed Swansong. What could she do?

_Master, what do I do? _She thought. _Where are you? Where are you?_

She suddenly burst into a second clearing, and saw a second pair of cats in front of her. She stared at them in shock. Phoenix looked up, surprise written on her face. She and Scorpion quickly broke apart.

"Nightshade, hello!" Phoenix gasped. "I-I didn't think you'd be here…this isn't what it looks like, really." She glanced at Scorpion helplessly. "Don't tell Griffin!"

Nightshade's heart was still pumping furiously, and Swansong's body entangled with Blight's rose in her mind, swimming over her vision.

"Nightshade? Are you alright?" Phoenix asked. "Nightshade, what happened? There's blood on your claws, your face. What did you—"

Phoenix never finished her sentence. Nightshade burst forward, slashing her claws over Phoenix's throat. Phoenix fell to the side, gasping. Frozen with shock, Scorpion was still on the ground. Nightshade was on him in a moment, ripping and tearing. He recovered quickly, slashing down her side, but he wasn't quick enough to save himself. Her claws finally found his neck as well, and with a single strike he was helpless, lying on his side with his blood pooling around him.

Nightshade took a step back, panting with horror. Her eyes widened as she realized what she had done, as she saw Phoenix let out a final gasp before her eyes glazed over.

_Robin, _she thought, her shattered mind attempting to put the pieces together. _Scorch, Barb, Swansong, Phoenix, Scorpion…all dead, all my fault…. Master, where are you? Master, can't you save me?_

She collapsed to the ground, her face pressed against the bloody grass. She let out a moan. _Let them find me._

"Nightshade?"

It was Blight's voice, crackling with anger. She raised her head, and saw him striding towards her, his single eye flashing like lightning.

"You killed her," Blight snarled. "You killed Swansong!" He struck her, his claws slicing down the length of her face. She was motionless, allowing him to strike her. Didn't she deserve it?

"I was trying to save her, like I saved you," he hissed in her ear. "She was our way into the heart of them, didn't you see? Through her we could have been that much closer to seizing control! You ruined everything!" He slashed at her again, opening a new wound above her eye, narrowing missing blinding her.

"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I saw her…you…together…." She chanced a glance up at him, her eyes wide and pleading.

Blight's eye glared down at her. "She was just a tool, pet," he growled. "Just a tool. I was trying to save her. I'm the Master, don't I deserve more than one she-cat to spend my time with?"

Nightshade closed her eyes, giving the tiniest nod. What had she been thinking? He was the Master, she owed everything to him. Who would she be without him? It was his right to take what he wanted, to do what he pleased. Who was she to question that?

"Besides, you're my favorite, pet." His voice was soft again. "You'll always be my favorite. How could you ever think anything else?"

She raised her eyes to meet his again. "R-really?"

"Of course. Didn't I choose you?" He glanced over his shoulder. "These three will eventually be missed, and I don't want them on our tails. We have to flee, and quickly. I think Maggot will allow us into his group for the moment, and we have much to speak about with him."

Nightshade rose to her paws slowly. "Do you know where he is?"

"I'm sure we can find him. Come on, we've no time to waste." Blight took off, running into the forest. Nightshade followed him, ignoring the blood running down her side and the pain of her new wounds.

_Rumble won't be able to treat these, _she realized.

She followed Blight's gray form in the darkness, until he abruptly stopped. Nightshade opened her mouth, tasting cats, many of them. She recognized the faintly boggy scent of the cats who had attacked camp before.

Their camp was near the stream, which accounted for the muddiness and smell of the cats. Their dens were carved into the side of the bank, created when the water had been higher.

"Hello," Blight meowed, entering the camp. Glowing eyes turned towards him, mostly surprised by the nerve of a tom to stride into their camp. The white tom, Maggot, rose to his paws, his eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?" he growled. His voice was an ugly rasp, which Nightshade realized was caused by the horrible scarring on his throat. It was hard to see when he was sitting, but as soon as he rose to his paws, it was apparent. _How could he survive injuries like that? If they were committed at once, he would surely die…like the others. Perhaps when stretched over long periods of time, like torture…._

Blight dipped his head. "I am Blight, one of the cats who fought in the recent raids."

Maggot's eyes moved to Nightshade. "And you?"

"She is Nightshade, with me," Blight answered.

"She did not fight," Maggot said coolly. "She watched and hid."

"She is stronger now, as her wounds prove; she took down three cats moments ago," Blight meowed carefully. Maggot blinked slowly.

"Impressive, although I'm sure there were circumstances around the kills. Still, very impressive, very impressive indeed…that will put a dent in their numbers." Maggot's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"We're here to join you," Blight said. "Not to take over your group; I can see you're stronger and less trusting than Tremor. No, I have come here to join you and learn your ways, so that I may report to my own master, Slaughter."

Maggot blinked slowly, calmly. "Slaughter?" he rasped.

"He lives in the mountains, where he leads four bands combined," he explained. "He wants to enlist your help to squash a small resistance."

"And what is in it for us?"

"We will leave you alone," he said simply. "Slaughter plans to crush Tremor's band, and it will not be difficult. He will take his land. If you do not join us, he will do the same to you."

Maggot cocked his head to one side, clearly thinking. "We will think this over," he said finally. "How do I know Slaughter will not turn on us?"

Blight let out an amused purr. "It's foolish for a leader to turn on his allies, no?" he replied. "It would only stir up another resistance, which is exactly what we are trying to destroy."

"Tremor's band will resist," Maggot warned, and Blight nodded.

"We will kill them all."

Maggot closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a rattling breath. Finally, he nodded. "Take them to their den," he ordered. A sleek black she-cat rose to her paws, padding towards Blight and Nightshade. With a silky "This way," she guided them to an empty den on the bank.

"We have nothing to fear," Blight said to Nightshade softly, allowing her to settle inside first. "They will hold to their words; Slaughter will find them if they do not. He will investigate why his patrols have not returned." He smiled at her. "You made mistakes today, my pet. But fear not; they've allowed us to meet our goals despite your faults." His hot breath tickled her ear. "Allow me to show you how much I care about you, pet."

Nightshade leaned against him, breathing in his scent, Swansong's face appearing in her mind. _I killed her._

She slowly drew away, pressing against the back of the den. "I'm tired."

Blight's eyes narrowed, but they were in enemy territory; too much noise, and Maggot might think they were there for more than an alliance, and he would certainly be worried about Blight's treatment of Nightshade. Blight let out a quiet growl.

"Whatever you wish, pet." He closed his eye, leaving Nightshade awake.

_I killed them, _she thought. _I killed them all. Phoenix….Phoenix believed in the stars. Did she go there? Is she with StarClan now? But if she's with StarClan…will she be evil too? I can't believe that…but the Master said that they were evil, and he can't be wrong. _

_Or can he?_

**AN: **

**Sorry about the update junk, I've been busy with NaNo preparation. D:**

**Visit the blog for some info about these rogue-darlings. Don't complain about their names, please, I can explain. Kinda. xD **

**Needed to get this out before NaNo starts tomorrow; I probably won't be updating this much as I allow NaNo to sweep me away. For those readers of mine who still want something I've written to read while you wait, check my FictionPress account; I'll be updating it with my NaNo story. The username is also Prin-Pardus. If you want to know what the story is about before you look, you can either look at the blog (I'll post the synopsis there) or look at the synopsis on my NaNo account (again, my ID is at the top of this chapter, just copy-and-paste it instead of your own ID). Wish me luck!**


	25. C h a p t e r 24

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**24**

She nibbled on her paw anxiously, glancing at Forest before looking away quickly. His sides rose and fell slowly, telling her he was still asleep, but her pelt prickled with unease.

_Something's wrong between us, _she thought. _That conversation yesterday, before I went to sleep…he seemed angry about something. But what? I've tried treating him like a normal Clan cat, haven't I? I know he wants to have a group he can be with, a sort of family…have I not made him feel welcome?_

She sighed quietly and rose to her paws. She heard a rustle behind her, and turned, seeing Shimmer's blue eyes glinting as the kit raised her head.

"Where you going?" the kit demanded, and Silverstreak smiled warmly at her, cloaking her uncertainties. "Just…out," she said. "I'm going to see…Frostfeather. I want to see the kits." The lies slid off of her tongue easily, but she knew seeing Frostfeather would be a good idea anyway, to help her clear her mind. Besides, Frostfeather knew all about toms, perhaps more than any she-cat Silverstreak had ever met.

Shimmer pouted, and her head went back onto her paws. "Can we do sometin when you done?"

Silverstreak let out a purr, and licked Shimmer before the kit could move away. "I'm flattered. Yes, we can do something when I come back; how about you think about what you want to do until I get back?"

Shimmer rubbed her paw over her ear, scrubbing the lick away, but she gave Silverstreak a small nod. With that, Silverstreak left the den.

Reedrush was asleep when she entered, but Frostfeather was awake and watching as Blizzardkit sniffed Robinkit and Jaykit curiously. Blizzardkit gave Silverstreak a bright smile, before poking Robinkit with one paw. The ginger kit gave a loud mewl, and Blizzardkit sprang away with fright. Silverstreak let out an amused purr, and Frostfeather flicked her tail, summoning her closer.

"Cute, aren't they?" Frostfeather asked, green eyes beaming with pride as she looked down at her two kits. "I can't wait until they're able to see, to explore…I'm sure they'll bond with Death, once the danger is over." Her eyes glittered with amusement. "Did you bring any food with you, or are you here about something?"

Silverstreak blinked in surprise, and Frostfeather purred again. "I know you too well, Silverstreak. You've got that worried look on your face." She moved slightly, so she rested more comfortably on her side. "Well?"

Silverstreak sat down, wrapping her thick tail around her paws, and glanced down at Blizzardkit. He watched her with bright blue eyes, and she glanced back towards Frostfeather.

"Ah," Frostfeather said softly, and she flicked her tail to Blizzardkit. "Do you know Shimmer?" Frostfeather asked softly, and the kit nodded, a nervous look in his eyes. "She's in the den nearby, and I'm sure she wants a playmate. Want to play with her?"

Blizzardkit gave Frostfeather a dubious look.

"Shimmer's a little hostile towards kits," Silverstreak said quietly, then blinked. "Blizzardkit, why don't you tell Shimmer that if she hurts you, she doesn't get to play later, okay? Help her come up with ideas for playing, I'm going to take her out later. When you're bigger, you can come too."

Blizzardkit made a happy, chirping noise, before dashing out of the den. Silverstreak followed him out, making sure he disappeared into Forest's den, before turning back to Frostfeather.

The white she-cat's eyes were gleaming expectantly. "Well?" she purred, her tongue licking her whiskers as if she was enjoying a particularly delicious piece of prey. "Come on, spill it. What's on your mind?"

"Why are you so eager?" Silverstreak asked suspiciously. "For all you know, I'm just concerned about Northstar or PeakClan looking for us."

Frostfeather shook her head. "No, that's a particular worried look. I know them all, trust me. This one is a little strange, though; you've got a guilty look in your eyes, and I know you're anxious, but there's something else there, something I haven't seen before…." Her muzzle opened wider in a grin. "It's a tom, right? Right?"

Silverstreak's ears flattened, and to her surprise she found that she was blushing. "It isn't what you're thinking, honest. I'm just worried about Forest."

"Not about his leg, that's for sure." Her eyes were dancing. "I don't blame you, though. If I didn't have the kits, I'd be eyeing him for sure; he's got some fine muscles under that raggedy pelt, and when he's back to full health…." She trailed off, letting out another purr. "I learned my lesson though, don't worry. He's all yours."

She felt hot under her pelt, and her tail lashed. "That isn't what I meant, Frostfeather. I'm not…interested in him."

Frostfeather sighed, shaking her head in mock sorrow. "I always knew there was something wrong with you, but now I'm certain of it," she said mournfully.

Silverstreak pushed her with one paw. "Stop it!" she exclaimed, but she was smiling slightly. Frostfeather took a deep breath, composing her face into an expression of seriousness.

"Alright, no kidding, fine you old sour-paws. What's eating you, then?"

"Well…it is about Forest, and you're right to say I'm worried about him." She quickly explained their conversation from the night before. By the time she finished, Frostfeather's eyes were dancing again.

"Silverstreak!" she cried, letting out a laugh so loud that Silverstreak was surprised when Reedrush didn't stir. "Oh you silly, silly she-cat!"

Silverstreak frowned at her. "Come on, Frostfeather, this is serious. I'm afraid he isn't settling in right, or that I did something wrong in telling him he could join us. Maybe he isn't right for Clan life, do you think? He's hostile towards them, but he said that I had showed him that not all Clan cats were bad."

Frostfeather was shaking her pretty head. "Oh, Silverstreak. He's _jealous._"

Silverstreak felt her face heat again. "What?"

"He wants to think that you treat him specially," Frostfeather explained. "He wants to think he's special _to you. _He dropped the names of the others to try to get you to admit it, that you treated him differently because you cared about him. But you didn't, and he was disappointed, probably a little angry. He's very attached to you. Trust me, I see why. If I was a tom…." She winked.

Silverstreak swallowed, feeling her stomach clench. "We're just friends…I mean, I think. We met kind of strangely…I didn't plan on getting kidnapped, he didn't plan on being ambushed…."

"He kidnapped you and you nursed him back to health! It's incredibly romantic. Death might have had a chance with me if that's how we had met," Frostfeather giggled. "You _saved _him, even though you didn't have to."

Silverstreak felt incredibly embarrassed. "It's my fault he was hurt, I was trespassing on his territory—"

Frostfeather flicked her tail dismissively. "If it was anyone's fault, it was Northstar's, and I'd be thanking him for this if I was you," she said. "You spent days together, with only each other a few visits from Blackmoon. If that's not romantic, I don't know what is…and darling, I _know_ what romantic is."

Silverstreak's ears flattened again. "So…what do I do about it?"

Frostfeather's eyes narrowed. "Do you like him back?"

Silverstreak looked down at her paws. _Do I? _She wondered. There was a strange…prickling feeling she had around him, especially when he was watching her. And she did love those leaf-green eyes, that crooked smile…but did that mean anything, really? Did she really…?

"I don't know," she mumbled, and Frostfeather's face turned sympathetic.

"I forgot there for a minute how inexperienced you are in being a she-cat. But, it really isn't that hard a question, right? Do you like him, or not?"

Silverstreak glanced towards Forest's den, as if seeing him in the entrance might help. "I don't know."

Frostfeather simply blinked at her, bemused, and Silverstreak almost smiled; for Frostfeather, this sort of not-knowing was unthinkable; Frostfeather always knew when she liked someone. Sure, she got over it quickly, but at least she _knew._

"Well, you can't just ignore it," she meowed. "I mean, this won't go away. If you like him, tell him. If not, tell him that. You have to deal with it; he might only be joining the Clan for you, and you can't lead him on if you don't really like him."

_How can I lead him on if I don't even know? _She wondered. _How am I supposed to know this? Does it just come naturally? Am I some sort of freak because I don't know?_

"So…what do I do?"

"Figure it out," Frostfeather said simply. "Figure out how you feel, and go from there. Your heart knows what to do better than I do." She seemed almost sad. "I mean, look at me, right? I've liked loads of toms, and all I've gotten from it is a pair of kits…beautiful kits, sure, but…." She trailed off and shook herself. "Just do what you think is right. Your infallible in that respect. StarClan chose you for a reason."

_Because I left my friends in Twolegplace? Because I ended up getting kidnapped and getting Forest hurt? Because I have somehow led Northstar to those PeakClan cats, and poor Blackmoon? _She thought sadly. _I don't know why StarClan chose me, I really don't. I can't even figure out how I feel about one tom; how can I lead an entire Clan who is depending on me for my judgment? I've had a bad run in that, lately…._

"I guess I'm finished here, then…I promised Shimmer I'd play with her," she said, rising to her paws.

"Make sure that little monster didn't eat Blizzardkit; Reedrush wouldn't be happy when she woke up," Frostfeather meowed, but there was sadness behind her cheery voice, and Silverstreak knew her friend was, despite her bluster, very lonely with her two kits.

She gave Frostfeather a lick on the muzzle, and padded out of the den.

. . .

Shimmer wanted to collect herbs; no surprises there. What did surprise Silverstreak was the fact that Shimmer and Blizzardkit had not fought; in fact, Blizzardkit was eager to follow them. Silverstreak had to tell him rather firmly that he was too little, but it wasn't until Shimmer flexed her claws that the little white kit scampered back to his mother.

Silverstreak was a little worried at Shimmer's threat, but she said nothing; Shimmer was young and wild, raised by a strange mother who had evidently left her alone while protecting her brother. She wasn't ready to be molded just yet.

Although, when she was ready, Silverstreak had a pretty good idea of what she would become. There was a certain quietness that came over Shimmer when she was around herbs; she touched them gently, picked them exactly according to instructions, took care of them all the way back to Forest's den. And then she watched Silverstreak change Forest's cobwebs keenly, even helping with a few herself. It was almost amusing, to see the rambunctious little kit so earnest when chewing marigold, but Silverstreak found that she was heartened by it. After all, every Clan needed a medicine cat, and with the proper training – by Ravenwing, perhaps? – she knew Shimmer would be an excellent medicine cat for the Clan, albeit one who would not accept any foolishness.

She and Forest shared an awkward meal, with Shimmer stealing a few bites from their meal as well as Reedrush and Frostfeather's; the hunting had been difficult for Silverstreak, and she had been too tired to catch prey for everyone. She had almost not eaten, but she knew the others were depending on both her and her strength in order to feed themselves.

And they had not seen hide nor hair of PeakClan, at least not really. While hunting, Silverstreak had smelled their stink over the den she had Forest had lived in together; PeakClan was all over the place there, but it seemed they were unable to track Silverstreak's small group, or Eaglestrike's as they headed towards Twolegplace. It offered her some sense of relief, but she was still uneasy. If she was found, it would be all too easy for PeakClan to capture them.

PeakClan brought other concerns with it, of course; Eaglestrike had said that Slaughter had died, which should have meant that there would be peace, where it not for this new Lion character. Lion was bent on revenge, and he would eventually find them wherever they hid. Even if they could gather and train cats in the scant two-moons time they had, the idea of fighting TalonClan was laughable. They would need help just to survive, and PeakClan was their only ally.

_We have to find them before they do us, _she thought. _If they see us as filthy trespassers, they'll never side with us, even against TalonClan. If we can approach them first, perhaps we could bargain with them….But it's probably too late now. They know about our den at the very least, and I am sure Northstar has told them all sorts of horrible things about us. We have to discredit him somehow…but they will never believe us without any proof. He's their hero, isn't he? He saved that queen, carrying many future PeakClan kits, I'm sure. Why would they trust us over him? If we could prove all he had done, that would be something, but we have no witnesses to his crimes, not anymore….We could try to get them to ally with us out of common interests, but Blackmoon said they were an arrogant Clan; even their name is arrogant. PeakClan, the highest Clan of all, high enough to almost touch StarClan…._

She sighed, resting her head on her paws, licking one pad that was bothering her from where she had scraped it in a failed attempt to catch a squirrel.

"Something wrong?" Forest asked. His voice was carefully neutral, and she felt a sudden pang, realizing how a huge abyss had suddenly opened between them with a few careless words.

"I'm only…thinking," she said quietly.

"About?"

Forest couldn't hide the warmth in his eyes, no matter how much he might want to; caring gleamed there, compassion. Even with his aversion to Clan cats, the fact that he could care so deeply about her and the other Clan cats….

"PeakClan," she blurted, then winced; she hadn't meant to worry him.

Forest nodded slowly. "And what is bothering you about them? That cat, Northstar? Them finding our camp? The fact that they'll probably find us here?"

"That and more," she admitted. "I'm thinking about the future, too, about Lion. He'll crush us with ease if we can't ally with PeakClan, but somehow I really can't see that happening…not with Northstar with them."

"Get rid of him," Forest said breezily, and she almost laughed; he said it as if it was so easy, no more than nipping a flea from your pelt. She could see the smallest hint of his crooked smile, and realized that he truly was joking, trying to lighten her mood. Her pelt prickled gently against her skin.

"I wish," she said, and blinked at the venom that had seeped into her voice. It was true; she would give her tail just to sink her claws into his flesh, to see his fluffy white coat marred by blood.

Forest's eyes narrowed slightly, and the smile slipped away from him. "Do it," he meowed. "Set it up to look like something else happened; a badger attack, or something, or that he drowned."

She shook her head. "If it was that easy, I would," she said ruefully, "but it really isn't. He's North_star_; he has nine lives sent to him by StarClan. I could kill him once and he'd only come back eight more times. He hasn't lost a single life, not in all of our fighting. And setting it up to look like an accident wouldn't be easy."

_Although, it would be ironic, _she reflected with a slight smile. _After all, he gained his throne by setting up his father's death, right? Isn't that why he was expelled from the Clan? If we could do the same to him, send him to the Dark Forest that much sooner…._

She blinked slowly, then. _When we were in MarshClan territory that day, hiding from the FrozenClan patrol…those cats called him Northwind, not Northstar. What does that mean? Did they doubt his nine lives after all? He still calls himself Northstar, I'm sure, but that's because of his ego and the power the name holds…might he never have received his nine lives? _ She felt her heart flutter. _Perhaps, _she thought excitedly, _perhaps he never received them after all! I mean, StarClan could never give him those after what he did – what he was planning to do – right? What cat in StarClan would even want to? And, if he didn't have them…._Her blue eyes narrowed. _Well, there's only one way to know._

"A mouse-tail for your thoughts?" Forest asked, and she looked up, meeting his gaze.

"Sorry," she said, realizing how she must have looked, staring at her paws. "I was just thinking about what you said…about making it look like an accident."

"What about his nine lives? You just mentioned them."

"He might not have them, is what I was thinking," she mewed. "I mean, he's an evil cat, and Crowtalon told his followers when he took over – according to Eaglestrike – that Northstar betrayed FrozenClan by killing his father to attempt to gain power. StarClan would know that when he became leader, and I'm certain his plans for the war were already in motion. They would never give nine lives to a cat so evil." Her heart fluttered hopefully in her chest, like a bird waiting to fly into the sky.

"There's only one way to find out, right?" Forest smirked. "I'd sure like to pay him back for what he did to me."

"But…if we kill him and he comes back…." She sighed. "He would make it back to the Clan telling of how we savage intruders attempted to kill him, how the grace of StarClan preserved him. They would only love him more."

Forest cocked his head to one side. "It's a gamble, then," he meowed. "Either way PeakClan won't listen to you. If you do nothing, Northstar's their golden boy. If you attack and he dies, his voice is silenced. If you attack and he lives, he's even more special to PeakClan. It seems to me that no matter what you do, you'll regret it."

Silverstreak's claws kneaded the dirt. _I'd rather regret trying to kill him than letting him live, _she thought, and was almost shocked by the strength of the anger she felt towards him; was she really that dark on the inside?

"I would need a plan, I guess," she said slowly, "and I know I could never kill him alone…I would need help. He's so much stronger than I am, and his strategy is amazing…he destroyed in one season what his father could not do in one year. He crushed MarshClan before anyone knew what was happening, and ShellClan before BirchClan could react. And then we fell, because of the disease he helped grow…."

"He sounds awful," Forest said. "It amazes me what fools PeakClan are, to listen to a tom like that."

"He had us all fooled at first; FrozenClan was completely loyal to him, and at that first Gathering he was so gentle, so modest, so sorrowful about his father's passing…my father, my own father, gave his condolences…I even found myself wondering what I would do if my father or Eaglestrike died and I had to take up the position of leader…." She felt her throat constricting as thinking of her father, of the sympathy she had once held for Northstar, choked her.

She felt Forest's tail brushed her side gently, and she smiled weakly at him.

"Don't talk about it anymore," he advised. "Just rest now. Everything looks better in the light of day."

She rested her head on her paws, and found herself staring at his leg. "Have you been exercising it?"

"Every day."

She felt a pang of guilt. "I was supposed to help, I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "You've been busy lately, don't worry about it. Too busy worried about Buck, Jag, and Death." His smile was straight and strained, and she winced slightly, remembering Frostfeather's words.

"I was worried about you too," she said cautiously. "I just…have to provide for everyone now. It takes a load on my mind."

He nodded again. "Rest," he said, before his head rested on his mud-colored paws, and his green eyes closed. Feeling unspeakably weary, Silverstreak let out a sigh and closed her own eyes.

. . .

The next day was full for her; hunting, herb-gathering, helping Forest with his exercises. It passed all too quickly, and by the end of it she was too tired to even have a chat with Forest, finding herself dreaming before she even knew what had happened.

She awoke with a prickle of excitement, although at first she wasn't sure what it was for. Then, she remembered; that day was the day of the new moon. She was supposed to go to Twolegplace and meet with the others today.

She felt another tremor of excitement as she rose to her paws, followed by a strong feeling of worry; could the others fend for themselves while she was gone?

_It's only a few hours' journey, _she consoled herself, _and I must make sure they are alright, mustn't I?_ She left the den with a glance at Forest and Shimmer, heading into the nursery.

Reedrush and Frostfeather were both awake, grooming their kits while chatting, although the chatter stopped as Silverstreak entered.

"Good morning," Reedrush purred. Silverstreak gave her a small smile.

"Today is the new moon, so I'm going to Twolegplace," she announced. "Forest and Shimmer are sleeping; can you guys explain where I am when they wake up? I'm heading off now to be there at sunhigh, so I should be back by nightfall if everything goes well. Can you guys make sure everything is alright until then?"

Both she-cats nodded. "I will hunt for us today," Reedrush offered. "Blizzardkit is large enough to entertain himself, aren't you?" she asked the kit. He let out a sleepy mewl and nestled against her side, and Silverstreak smiled.

"Thank you," she mewed. "I will see you both at nightfall."

"Safe trip," Frostfeather called as the silver she-cat left the den.

With only another glance around camp, she set out, thinking that she would have preferred some of Ravenwing's traveling herbs; however, Silverstreak did not know what was in them, and gulping down unknown plants would be a rather bad idea.

The small dens disappeared from her rather quickly, as the forest engulfed her. Watching the sun, she headed north-west, towards Twolegplace.

The walking was dull; she scented a PeakClan patrol, but the scent was stale, and she was not worried. Prey chirped in the brush, and she managed to catch a small vole to fill her belly and give her the energy to come home later. Other than those small events, however, the walk was uncomplicated, and for some reason this worried her.

_I'd have thought PeakClan would be swarming over their territory, like ants in an anthill, once they realized we were here, _she thought. _This silence, though…it's like the calm before the storm, unsettling. _

She began moving at a brisker pace.

The sound of Twoleg monsters finally reached her ears, and she broke into a trot as the Thunderpath appeared in front of her. Sticking close to the familiar path, she saw Twoleg nests rising before her.

And there was the entrance, the first real Thunderpath leading into the Twolegplace. But she did not see anyone.

She stopped, glancing down the nearby dark alleys, but could see no one. Puzzled, she sat down, wrapping her tail around her paws and keeping to the shadows in case any unruly toms spotted her. She opened her mouth, hoping for some scents.

There! Her head turned and she peeked out of the alley, seeing a muscular silver tabby heading her way. She blinked, seeing the scars on his side, and realized that it was Jag. She was puzzled, until she saw the gray tabby hugging the wall to his left, hidden in Jag's shadow.

"Eaglestrike, Jag," she greeted, them, coming into view. Eaglestrike gave her a smile and a lick on the muzzle in greeting, but his face was worried.

"What's wrong? Where is everyone?" she asked, looking from face to face.

"We had a skirmish, is all," Eaglestrike meowed. "Some toms thought we were encroaching upon their territory. Buck was injured, and Ravenwing was concerned enough to stay back and tend to him."

"And Death?" Silverstreak asked, thinking of the skinny black tom. "He didn't get himself killed, did he?"

Eaglestrike cracked a smile. "No, nothing like that. With Ravenwing and Buck – our two best hunters – busy, he's simply taken it upon himself to be the provider. Frostfeather would think it was sweet." He and Silverstreak shared a laugh, but the tension between them was still obvious; worry made Silverstreak's pelt prickle. She had been hoping to see Ravenwing, perhaps get her advice – Ravenwing had truly been in love, after all – but her friend obviously wasn't coming.

"Has anything else happened?" she asked.

"We're scouting for recruits, of course," Eaglestrike said, "but things are more dangerous than we anticipated. There are these 'boss' cats who don't like their territory being threatened, and we'll probably have a few more run-ins with them before things are over. Still, I think many cats are interested in what we have to say; we should have new faces when we return."

She nodded slowly. "That's good, that's good…everything is clear on my end, I suppose, we haven't seen any action. It's worrying, actually; aside from a few more patrols than before, PeakClan really hasn't done anything after discovering us. It's like they're waiting." She shivered as a chilly breeze rolled over her fur.

"Leaf-bare is coming quickly," Eaglestrike observed, and she nodded. "Are you sure you don't want us? Fighting in leaf-bare with a large Clan and barely any prey won't be good for you."

"We won't fight with them; if it comes right down to it, I'd rather be a prisoner," she growled. "I have to make sure everyone is taken care of. Northstar has a bone to pick with me, not Reedrush, Frostfeather, or Forest. PeakClan won't harm them, I don't think."

Eaglestrike's golden gaze was gentle as he watched her. "You can't sacrifice yourself for them."

Her eyes slid away from his. "I know." But she didn't know, and that was the problem; if she wasn't supposed to help her friends, why had StarClan chosen her at all? She was ready to take any risks for her Clan, but she knew her friends would never let her. What could she really do, if worst came to worst with the arrogant PeakClan?

"Is Reedrush alright?" Jag rumbled, and she glanced at the muscular tabby, having momentarily forgotten him.

"Oh, yes," she said quickly. "Blizzardkit is growing up fast, poking his nose into anything. Reedrush has a pawful with him…." They chatted for several minutes, and gradually Silverstreak felt the tension melt away from her as she simply enjoyed being with her foster brother. But as the sun began to dip towards the horizon, the anxiety came flooding back.

"I have to go," she said finally, rising to her paws. "I said I'd be back before nightfall."

"We'll meet again at the half moon," Eaglestrike meowed. He turned to go, then paused, turning back to her. "Take care of yourself," he said firmly. "Don't do anything rash."

"Of course," she answered with a smile, despite her own doubts. "Tell the others hello for me…tell Death that Frostfeather is thinking of him. Or maybe you shouldn't."

Eaglestrike's whiskers twitched, and he nodded, padding down the street.

"Tell Reedrush I…." Jag trailed off uncertainly, clearly unsure of what message he wanted to be relayed. "Tell her I miss her, and I'm glad Blizzardkit is strong."

"I will," she mewed, and the large tom padded after Eaglestrike. Feeling somewhat sad, she watched as they disappeared, before turning to go herself.

She broke into a run on the way back, knowing that she had wasted too much time with chit-chat; she wouldn't be back by nightfall, as she had promised.

_I hope they aren't worried, _she thought anxiously, as the sound of the river told her she was getting close. Then, she stopped as PeakClan scent flooded her nose; fresh scent, not the stale scent of their absent patrols. Rushing forward, the scent grew in her nose, mixed with the fear-scent of her friends.

She stopped as she reached their camp, staring in horror. The earth was disturbed, churned up, and as she rushed into the dens she could see that no one was there. The nursery was absent, covered in fear-scent; Forest's den held only the herbs, crushed by heavy PeakClan paws.

She stood there in the entrance, her heart pounding in her chest, blood roaring in her ears, horrible fear taking over.

What had PeakClan done with her friends?

**AN: Thank you all for the support! To clarify, it isn't the compliments I enjoy, so much as the feedback as to what I am doing right/wrong in my writing. ^^**


	26. C h a p t e r 25: Northstar

**AN: Quickly, to the time machine!**

**Seriously, I'll prolly never do a story with so many viewpoints ever again. The days are so off. D:**

**Ah well. We shall persevere!**

**C **_**h a p t e r**_** 25**

By the time he reached camp, the brief flicker of enthusiasm he had felt before had faded. Even if he seized power, even if he usurped the idiot Lightstar…Rabbitpaw would still be clinging onto life. She might never become a warrior as she had dreamed.

So why did it matter? He could suffer a fall himself, die in a pool of his own blood at the bottom of the Peak. He could catch a cold that became greencough, and die choking. He could fall into the river, and have it pull him under or crush him mercilessly against a boulder. He could amass more power than any living cat had ever held before…but that could disappear within a few short moments. Rabbitpaw had lost her dreams, if not her life, thanks to a carelessly-placed pawstep.

So why did it matter?

As he entered camp, he immediately went into the medicine den. Stoneheart was not there – he was hunting, perhaps? – and Blackmoon was watching Rabbitpaw silently.

Northstar's eyes narrowed. "Why aren't you doing anything?" he demanded. Blackmoon looked over his shoulder, blue eyes softening as he saw the former leader.

"There's nothing I can do but keep her comfortable," he meowed. "Whether she lives or dies…that is in the paws of StarClan."

Northstar couldn't keep his lip from curling in disgust at Blackmoon's words. Blackmoon's eyes seemed to gentle further.

"You have some issues with StarClan; I can understand that," he said softly. "Losing your Clan, however it happened, after holding the power of leader…it could get to anyone. You're probably feeling betrayed, angry, but it isn't StarClan's fault."

"You don't know anything about me," Northstar hissed, anger throbbing in his paws. He could feel himself on the brink of rage, on the very edge of exploding, of attacking Blackmoon and taking revenge for Rabbitpaw by killing StarClan's pawn. But Blackmoon's blue eyes bored into him, and he knew that he could not; if not for his own sake, then for Rosedapple. She might kill herself even with the kits depending on her if she lost such a close friend.

"Perhaps not," Blackmoon said with a sigh, turning back towards Rabbitpaw. "But, Northstar…Rabbitpaw really needs every prayer she can gather right now."

Northstar stared past the dark tom, towards the gray apprentice. She seemed so small, curled up on the bed of most; her stubby tail practically non-existent, her sides rising and falling weakly, her forelegs bound in cobwebs. His shoulders slumped as if a great weight had been placed upon him.

_Just one wrong move, and this…this happened to her. StarClan, is this some sort of revenge? Are you still betraying me, even while I am here in exile?_

This time, no anger came to greet his thoughts, only an aching sadness. Slowly, he rose to his paws and left the den without knowing where he would go.

He found himself in Rosedapple's den, watching as she surveyed her four kits; two Lightstar's gold, two Graywing's soft silver, as if the kits themselves were taunting her with the leader's affair. She looked up as he entered.

"Is Rabbitpaw okay?" she asked, her voice soft, almost breathless. "No one is telling me anything. Graywing used to bring me news when she came to check on me…but…."

Northstar said nothing, gazing sightlessly out of the den.

"So…she's not, then? Is she going to die?"

"They…don't know." The words were slow, forced, and Rosedapple's ears flattened.

"Are you angry with me?"

Northstar opened his mouth to say 'no', but found that anger was bubbling within him, new anger; this was not misdirected, not intended towards StarClan for all they had done, or Rabbitpaw for running off and getting hurt. This anger truly was for Rosedapple. "Yes."

She blinked at him. "Why?" she asked, but she sounded resigned. He rose to his paws, and began pacing, struggling to find the words for his rising anger.

"Look at you," he hissed. "You don't even try to stand up for yourself. You accept their punishments, punishments you don't deserve. You never did anything wrong."

"Acceptance or anger…neither changes anything. Lightstar doesn't love me. Graywing is dead."

"But the Clan hates you!" he snarled, "and you do nothing about it! You don't talk to them, you don't tell them they're wrong, you just sit there and take it! You don't tell your side, you don't say that it wasn't your fault. And it wasn't your fault, Rosedapple! How could it be? Lightstar is the one who fell in love with a medicine cat, not you. He's the one who put himself before you and the rest of his Clan, even StarClan themselves. You did nothing wrong! And yet you sit here and mope, you whimper to yourself about the Clan's hate…when you do nothing to stop it."

"They wouldn't listen," Rosedapple mewed, her voice a low whimper.

"How would you know?" Northstar growled, his golden eyes burning into hers. "How would you _know _when you have never asked, not once?"

She dropped his gaze, and he started pacing again without realizing it. "And not only are you lying hereby yourself, feeling sorry for yourself and lonely, but now you're giving up completely. You're resigning yourself to death. No, not resigning; you're _forcing _death upon yourself, taking your own life. Do you think StarClan wants that? Do you think they want any warrior to join them early? When you became a warrior, you swore to fight for and protect your Clan _with your life. _Nowhere in the warrior code does it say you should take your life because you're unhappy with it. And your kits…no kit should have to lose his mother. No mother should leave her kits! Not until they're…not until they're old enough, until they're ready to let go…until they're ready to lose her…." He had stopped pacing, and had begun to shake; his eyes were closed, as his mother's face rose in his mind, according to how his father had always described it; black with the brightest blue eyes that had ever been seen by any cat, glittering like the sky itself as she smiled at him.

"My…my mother killed herself," he choked out. "Before I was even born. She…she gave up too, on us, on my father, on everything…."

His eyes shot open as he felt a gentle warmth against his side. Rosedapple had risen to her paws, and pressed her pelt against his.

"I know," she whispered. "You told me already, remember? When you reminded me that I had to wait for them to be born…and then you made me wait until they didn't need to suckle any longer…." She stared down at the four kits, her eyes unreadable. "I guess I'll have to wait again," she said finally. Northstar glanced at her, confused, and she gave him a sad smile. "Until StarClan decides that it's time," she murmured, and gave his shoulder a gentle lick. He tensed at the unfamiliar touch, although her gentle warmth at his side was oddly comforting. He hesitated, and then licked her in return, his tongue rasping over her ear. She let out a small purr that he felt through her fur, and he almost smiled; it was the first time he had ever heard her purr.

"Thank you," he said, surprised by the rasp of his voice. "Thank you, for your kits, and Blackmoon."

She seemed to be waiting for something, but he said nothing more, and she laid down once more, curling the kits against her stomach. "I know you're troubled, perhaps even more than I," she mewed, "but StarClan has always been the most soothing balm for my wounds. If you trust them, they'll help you through anything, you know?"

"So you say," Northstar said, the growl re-entering his voice.

"Have you prayed for Rabbitpaw?"

"StarClan wouldn't hear anything I said."

She regarded him for a moment. "Perhaps you should try."

He almost smiled - even with all she had been through, she still believed that StarClan cared – but he couldn't take that comfort from her. "Perhaps."

He padded out of the den, pausing in the entrance. He hovered there uncertainly; where should he go? With Blackmoon, he would be in the way. He couldn't turn back to Rosedapple. He couldn't even think of hunting while Rabbitpaw bled within Blackmoon's den. And as for Silverstreak…she wasn't going anywhere the fool. If she was here, she was here to stay, there was no rush.

Movement made him turn, and he saw Dapplefern emerging from Lightstar's den. She shot him a contemptuous look as she stalked away, and he blinked, remembering their last conversation. Some part of him was glad he wouldn't have to worry about her inappropriate advances any longer, but part of him was worried; she could make his name mud if she chose.

Perhaps that was what she was attempting to do with Lightstar. _I better kill this before it takes hold of him, as weak as he is right now, _Northstar thought resolutely, padding into the den.

Lightstar was filthy; he obviously hadn't groomed himself since Graywing died. It looked as if he hadn't moved, except to perhaps sit vigil with her during the night. He stared at the wall vacantly, and Northstar almost felt a stirring of pity for the broken tom.

"Lightstar?" he growled softly. Lightstar looked up, but his eyes were blank and glassy.

"Get Graywing, will you?" he murmured. "I-I'm afraid I don't feel well…had the worst dream that she was…."

Northstar didn't move, unsure of what to do. "Graywing isn't here," he said cautiously.

"Where is she?" Lightstar demanded. "She can't be wandering around with our kits – I mean, the kits. Shouldn't have said that, huh? No one is supposed to know their mine!" He gave a weak giggle, and Northstar simply stared at him.

"Graywing already had her kits, remember? She died," Northstar said bluntly. Lightstar stared at him, confusion on his face.

"Dead? But I dreamed something like that…wait, are you saying?" There was sorrow in his eyes now, sorrow that was deep and cutting. His mouth opened in a silent wail, and his head collapsed back onto his paws. Northstar didn't move.

"Graywing, Graywing, what will I do without you?" Lightstar whimpered, his voice muffled by his paws. "My love, my dove, what can I do without you? My guiding star, my light…how can I…?"

His head suddenly rose, a wild look in his eyes. "I can talk to StarClan. I can talk to her there in the Pool of Stars! Yes, that is what I must do!" He rose to his paws rapidly, swaying slightly with unsteadiness.

"I think you should lie down, you aren't well," Northstar said. "Blackmoon can speak to them for you."

"I don't need Blackmoon, I need Graywing, my Graywing!" His eyes glittered with madness. Northstar felt a pang; the last thing the Clan needed was to see their leader like this. Thinking quickly – perhaps he could gain favor with the crazed tom – he said,

"I could go for you."

Lightstar blinked at him. "No, no, you don't know what to say to her. I need to speak with her!"

"I'll go there for you," Northstar continued soothingly, "and tell her you need to speak to her. She'll visit you in your dreams, and you'll be fine. Alright?"

Lightstar's eyes still appeared glazed, but he was obviously thinking. "Yes," he said finally. "Yes, yes…take someone with you, yes? Take an apprentice…that little yappy one…."

Northstar felt another pang, but he kept his voice level. "Of course, Lightstar. I'll take Rabbitpaw with me. Where is the, ah, Pool of Stars?"

"Behind the waterfall, everyone knows that," Lightstar snapped. He stomped one paw. "Hurry! Go! I need Graywing!"

"Just…try to sleep," Northstar meowed. "She'll come to you as soon as I speak to you. Rest and wait here."

Lightstar nodded, lying back down. He rested his head on his paws and his eyes closed. His breathing soon became rhythmic, although there was an odd rasp to it. With a quiet sigh, Northstar turned away from the beaten leader.

_What do I do with him? _He wondered. _Stoneheart would step in and take charge…but Rabbitpaw is too much for him, he cannot. Perhaps I could step up in their places…._He felt the tiniest prickle of excitement, but that was all. In any case, it was obvious that conquering Silverstreak would have to wait.

Then, an idea occurred to him. At first he dismissed it, but after passing Blackmoon's den and seeing Stoneheart hunched over his daughter, the idea nagged him.

_I know where the Pool of Stars is, _he thought, _and Rabbitpaw needs all the help she can get just to survive, Blackmoon said…so perhaps I should…._

He flinched away from the idea. Why set himself up to allow StarClan to betray him again?

_But it isn't for me this time, _he found himself thinking. _It's for her, for her family. Might it be worth it…? If she dies, I will never get over the guilt, knowing I could have done something to help her, something that only cost me my pride. _

_Can I lose that?_

He could almost feel the sadness in the air, the feeling the Clan held over losing their medicine cat, and he found himself clenching his jaw. _They will not be allowed to lose an apprentice._

Without another glance back, he left camp.

. . .

He picked his way down the slippery slope with care, remembering Rabbitpaw's blood-stained fur. The waterfall roared at him as his paws found solid earth, and he found himself staring up at it with awe. How could he hope to get behind this? Did he just take a running jump?

No, there. Moving forward he could see the absolute slimmest path leading to…something. With the quietest of sighs, he padded forward, placing one paw directly in front of the other, unsheathing his claws to hold onto the slick stone. His stomach clenched as one paw slipped, nearly sending him crashing onto his side, but he dug in with his other claws, anchoring himself to the rock. Slowly, he rose again and continued walking.

There, the mouth of a small tunnel. He ducked inside it, wincing as his shoulders scraped both sides. He gritted his teeth, but took a step forward, following the contours of the stone. Outside he knew the sun was sinking; the end of this awful day was rushing to meet him, it seemed.

Then, the gentle sound of water lapping against stone. A cavern opened up in front of him, the narrow tunnel dipping down towards the water. Looking up, he saw several narrow holes at the top of the cave, many hidden by brush above. He sat down, settling himself against the cool stone, and began to wait.

. . .

When he opened his eyes, cool moonlight kissed the water, as if stars danced on the surface. He stared for a moment, watching the strange ripples of the water. Then, he rose to his paws and took a step forward, feeling the cold liquid lapping at his paws. He stared down at it, and found that his heart was pounding madly. Gently, he reached down with his tongue, and lapped. Cool water burst against his tongue for a moment, before weariness swept over him. He dimly felt landing against the hard stone, water splashing onto his muzzle, before he was gone.

_It was murky and misty, just as it was before. The fur on his shoulders ruffled with discomfort, and he glanced around, looking for any sign of life. For a moment, he thought he saw the faintest golden-brown pelt, the bell-like sound of a young she-cat's laugh, before it was lost to him. A new scent greeted his nose, and as he turned he saw a large golden tabby shouldering his way through the mist._

"_Brackenheart." This time he did not rush to meet his old mentor; he stood still as a pillar of stone, simply watching. Brackenheart gave him a cool nod._

"_Northwind."_

_They were silent for a moment, the two of them, enemies sizing each other up; or at least, that is what Northstar felt was going on. He couldn't be sure, looking into his mentor's golden eyes; with Brackenheart, you could never tell. His deceptively-calm mentor was full of mad ideas, crazy training plans; that was what young Northpaw had loved about him._

_But no more. That was the past. They were both different cats, now._

"_Well?" Northstar said finally. "Here to tell me that I'm useless, horrible, that there's nothing I can do to help her?"_

"_Is that what you want to hear?"_

_Northstar let out a hiss. "Of course not."_

_Brackenheart shrugged. "Then I see no reason to say that." _

"_Don't play with me," Northstar growled. "You wasted my time before, allowing Crowtalon to seize power."_

"_Perhaps that was our mistake; but even if we had been brief, you would not have been back in time. Slaughter would have created TalonClan all the same."_

_Northstar was confused. "Slaughter? TalonClan? Don't play these games with me, Brackenheart, tell me what you mean! Can you save her or not?"_

"_Odd, that you named a kit after me," Brackenheart said, ignoring Northstar's outburst. "Even after everything I told you the last time we met."_

_Northstar's jaw clenched, and he felt the rolling of anger in his belly, like thunder. "Perhaps I was simply thinking of old times."_

_Brackenheart's eyes softened. "Ah, old times…before any of this mess was set into motion. And you named a kit after Birdpaw, too? I suspected that you liked her, but I didn't speak…my mistake, again. Death doesn't make you any wiser, I suppose."_

_Northstar resisted the urge to unsheathe his claws. "The past is the past. Now is all that matters."_

"_Not so. The past is just as important; we should all know that. You have a story, Northwind, like every other cat; you can't simply erase the parts you didn't care for. Those parts are what led you here, to PeakClan, to Rosedapple, to Rabbitpaw, and now to me. Tell me, Northwind, why are you here? To demand nine lives, since neither Stoneheart nor Lightstar can lead at this moment? To tell me how I betrayed you, along with all of StarClan? To plot about destroying your hated enemy, young Silverstreak?"_

"_You know exactly why I am here!"_

"_Tell me." His gaze was calm, infuriatingly so, but so it had always been; Brackenheart had been half-mad, yes, but it was a cunning, calm sort of mad that had always driven his impatient apprentice crazy._

"_I'm here for Rabbitpaw; she fell because of me, because of what I told her. I need for her to be okay."_

"_Why? To make yourself feel better, so you can convince yourself that you aren't as much of a monster as StarClan seems to think?"_

_His pelt prickled, but he wasn't sure it was with anger; despair, perhaps, or hurt. "No. I don't care about that. StarClan's judgment is already passed, I can't change that now. My own conscience isn't bothered either; or it is, but that isn't what matters. Her father loves her very much; fathers, I suppose. She's all her brother has for a sister, all her mother has. She's one of the brightest sparks in the Clan, one of the happiest. She tried to help me when I didn't want it, when I didn't think I needed it. But…." He swallowed, forcing himself to uncurl his pride. "But I do need it. I need her. We all need someone, to make us feel lighter than we are. We all need a conscience. And her family needs her most of all. I can't be the one to take her away from them."_

"_Would you be prepared to lose your own life for hers?"_

_Northstar stared at him; the question scared him. Could he really do that, give up his life? His ambitions? His dreams, all the while knowing that he was going straight to the Dark Forest for eternity to allow Rabbitpaw a few more years of life?_

_He sighed, silently hating himself. "No. I could not."_

_He turned away, knowing he had already failed._

"_I suppose not, not yet."_

_He glanced over his shoulder; Brackenheart was still watching him, intensity in his eyes. "You aren't ready for that sort of sacrifice, for placing someone above yourself," he continued, "but we never expected that from you. Northstar, Northwind, Northpaw…you were always my favorite apprentice, you know. It hurt me, to see what you had become."_

_Northstar's gaze dropped to his black paws; he could almost smell his own shame. "I know. You think I am a monster."_

"_But you don't."_

"_No. What I did was necessary."_

"_Taking over three Clans for power was necessary?"_

_He raised his gaze. "We would have died with my father in command; he didn't care anymore, not after my mother died. He didn't care about anyone; himself, his Clan…me. It used to be that leading came before everything else for him, but by that point he just didn't care anymore. I hungered for power because I deserved it. I saw myself as being the only one who could save us." He raised his chin. "I still do."_

"_Save us you did, but at a price," Brackenheart said sadly. Northstar's tail lashed._

"_I didn't come here to debate with you. I came to ask…for your help. Are you going to help me, then? Are you going to save her?"_

"_You won't lay down your own life for her," Brackenheart said, and Northstar's ears flattened. "And yet, you'll admit that you need someone other than yourself – truly need her, not just for power. That, compared to the cat you were only a moon ago…." Brackenheart trailed off. "Your path is a troubled one, Northwind and it still winds long. But I think…I think I can believe that you will find the end of it."_

_His ear flicked with irritation. "What does that mean? Just answer my questions!"_

_Brackenheart smiled, and Northstar saw the edge of the mist was disappearing, as if it was being eaten away. "Not all questions have answers," he meowed as even his golden pelt began to fade. "But sometimes, even the greatest cat needs a little help."_

"_What do you—" Northstar shouted, but the misty earth beneath him gave way, and he was falling, falling, falling…._

He woke up panting, coughing as water flowed down his throat and into his lungs. He sat up, coughing as his body forced the water back up, dribbling from his mouth. He looked up, and saw the faintest light drizzling down onto the pool. Turning quickly, he headed for the tunnel.

_I don't know what any of that meant, _he thought. _Is he going to help her? Is he not? What was Slaughter and TalonClan, and this path I have to walk? I don't understand any of it, and StarClan is not helping me…._

Weak sunlight broke onto his face as he emerged from the tunnel, picking his way down the narrow ledge until he was out from behind the waterfall. He looked up into the sky, seeing the weak sun climbing, then stared up at the Peak. Did he dare to go up, to return to camp? He let out the softest of sighs, and began to climb.

_I have no choice._

He found himself slowing as he neared the camp; it was as if every pawstep was a battle, as if his very paws were weighed down by stones from the river. He pushed his way through the entrance, finally stopping as his eyes took in the camp. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, he turned to find a golden tom blinking up at him.

"R-R-R-Rabbitp-p-paw," Mousepaw stammered. Northstar's eyes narrowed.

"Yes? What is it?" he asked quickly. "Is she…?"

"S-s-s-s-s…." Mousepaw trailed off, realizing he couldn't force the word. Instead, he flicked his tail to Northstar before dashing towards the medicine den. Following him, Northstar felt his heart fluttering in his paws.

Blackmoon turned as he entered. Then, slowly, he smiled and stepped to the side.

For a moment, Northstar didn't know what had changed. Then, he saw it, in the gentle way she breathed, the steady way her sides rose and fell, the fresh, bright cobwebs on her paws, the slight smile on her muzzle as she slept. Northstar turned towards Blackmoon, wordless.

"She's going to live," Blackmoon purred. "It was strange, like a change came over her over night; when I woke up there she was, as peaceful as could be, just sleeping away. She made the choice to beat this thing."

"I k-knew she wouldn't g-g-g-ive up," Mousepaw meowed. "I-I knew it. R-r-rabbitpaw doesn't g-g-g-…quit."

Northstar glanced up at the sky as if he could see through the dirt ceiling. Then, without quite realizing it, he sent up a silent prayer.

_Thank you._

He simply watched her sleep, before he thought about the other question.

"Blackmoon," he said, and the tom glanced back at him. "What…what about training? Can she be a warrior?"

Blackmoon frowned. "I'm not sure," he meowed. "It looked like her injuries were worse than I thought; neither leg appears to be shattered, but I'm sure they're both fractured. If they heal properly, she should train again…perhaps. Honestly, it's in StarClan's paws right now."

Northstar found himself smiling, and he realized he held no fear; StarClan would not save her only to condemn her to a useless life.

"Thank you," he meowed, half to the black tom and half to StarClan. With that, he left the den.

. . .

"She's going to be able to train?" Rosedapple asked, surprise in her voice. Northstar nodded, nosing the mouse towards her. She waved it away with a paw.

"I already ate, Blackmoon brought me something when he had the news," she mewed. "I mean, he knew she would live, but not whether or not she would be able to train."

Northstar's eyes glowed. "Isn't it amazing?"

Rosedapple let out a quiet purr. "I'm happy for you, Northstar. I know she means a lot to you."

Northstar nodded slowly, taking a bite of the mouse. His eyes slid to the nursery entrance as he chewed, and he saw Dapplefern lounging in the sunlight; from what he could see, she didn't appear to care if her apprentice ever trained again. Anger licked at him, but he forced it away; it would not do to have blood on his claws when StarClan had just granted his wish.

"Rosedapple," he meowed, "I want you to do something."

Her ears pricked. "Yes?"

He turned the full power of his gaze onto her. "When the kits are old enough that you don't have to be with them every waking moment, you're coming with me, out there. We're going to share a meal together, the three of us: You, me, and Blackmoon. Understand?"

To her surprise she let out a soft laugh. "Don't I get a choice?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "No. You don't. If you're not going to take your own life, then you're going to have to leave the nursery eventually. It's easiest for everyone if the transition is smooth."

She gave him a small nod. "I understand." He saw a flicker of fear in her blue eyes, but watched her push it away, and he smiled; she was stronger than he had thought.

When his teeth crunched against bone, he realized that he had eaten all of the mouse without realizing it. He blinked down at the bones, before absent-mindedly crunching the skull and gathering them up to be buried.

"Northstar?" Rosedapple asked, and he turned. "Lightstar hasn't visited the kits since…you know. I don't know what he wants to name them, even."

Northstar's thoughts turned dark at the mention of the broken leader. "At this moment, he'd probably name them both Graywingkit and be done with it."

Concern glowed in her eyes. "He's that badly off?"

Northstar winced, remembering that it was a sensitive topic for her. Still, she trusted him above all others to tell her the truth. "Yes. He's…not the same. I'm not sure he can be, without her."

Rosedapple said nothing, simply gave the smallest nod. "Could you ask him anyway, what he wants to name them? Please?"

Northstar hesitated, and then nodded. "I'll do that."

She smiled at him. "Thank you." He gave her another nod, and left the den.

After disposing of the bones, he padded into Lightstar's den, wrinkling up his nose at the smell. "Lightstar?"

The haggard tom turned towards him, golden eyes glowing in the darkness. "Back so soon, Northstar? Did you talk to StarClan like I told you?"

Northstar sighed inwardly. "Yes, I did. Graywing, ah, told me she would see you."

Lightstar's eyes were round and sad. "Well, she hasn't. I mean, I tried being good, I slept and everything. But she wasn't there…do you think she abandoned me?"

Northstar didn't have the patience for Lightstar's issues. "I don't know, but it doesn't matter. She's dead, Lightstar; maybe you'll see her and maybe you won't, but the fact is that your kits are alive. They have Rosedapple to raise them, but they need a father too, and they need names. What are you going to name them?"

Lightstar stared at him blankly. "Kits?"

Northstar sighed to himself. "Yes, two, one little female and a male. They're both gray, like Graywing."

Lightstar's gaze slid away from him. "Graywing and I met at a stream, a deep one. It was really pretty, like starlight…and so was she."

"So…Streamkit? Does that sound good?" Northstar asked uncertainly. Lightstar gave a flick of his shoulders, which Northstar assumed was a 'yes'. "And the male?"

"Gray is such a beautiful color," Lightstar said, his voice almost a moan. "Graywing, Graywing, Graywing…." His eyes fluttered closed, but he was not asleep; Northstar could barely hear him whimpering Graywing's name. Feeling weary, Northstar turned away. Then, he paused. "Lightstar," he said slowly, "Rabbitpaw might be able to train when she's better."

Lightstar didn't move.

"And…anyone can see that Dapplefern doesn't deserve her. She wasn't even concerned when she found out that Rabbitpaw had fallen."

Lightstar's ears pricked, and for a moment he almost seemed clear, out of concern for his Clan. "Rabbitpaw is hurt?"

"She fell, but she'll live," he meowed quickly. "And she'll be training in the future, I'm certain. But I think she needs a new mentor."

"You," Lightstar said immediately. Northstar blinked with surprise; he hadn't expected such ready agreement.

"You're fond of her, aren't you? It'll be fine." Lightstar gave a quick nod, and Northstar realized he didn't have as good a hold on everything as he had appeared to moments before.

"Um, thank you," Northstar said uncertainly. With that, Lightstar closed his eyes again, perhaps trying to summon Graywing to his dreams. Northstar waited a moment, before leaving the den.

"Well?" Rosedapple asked as he re-entered the den.

"The female is Streamkit…the male is, I don't know, Puddlekit?"

She glanced down at them, and shrugged. "That sounds fine with me."

Northstar watched her lick Brackenkit's head gently, and smiled; she might be a better mother than she liked to show.

. . .

He spent most of the next day in Blackmoon's den, watching Rabbitpaw, leaving only to share a meal with Rosedapple and watch the four kits.

"Any change?" Blackmoon asked, entering the den and licking his whiskers; he had stepped out for a moment to eat.

"None that I can see, but I'm hardly trained," Northstar remarked. "Does she look any different to you?"

Blackmoon opened his mouth, but Northstar wasn't looking at him; the tip of Rabbitpaw's tail twitched, and Northstar leaned forward. Ever so slowly, Rabbitpaw's blue-green eyes drifted open.

For a moment, she seemed confused. "Wha…?"

"How do you feel?" Blackmoon asked quickly, slipping in between the two of them.

"Where…where am I?" Rabbitpaw asked groggily. She tried to sit up, but Blackmoon held her down with one paw.

"You had quite a fall, and fractured your forelegs," Blackmoon explained. "You're lucky Northstar found you when he did. He brought you back."

He moved, allowing Rabbitpaw to stare at Northstar. "You?" she asked.

"Yes," Northstar said, feeling uncertain of himself. "I went looking for you when you didn't come back…remember?"

"I remember leaving camp," she rasped. "I remember you yelling…but I don't remember anything else."

Northstar glanced at Blackmoon, and the black tom smiled. "I'll be outside if you need me," he said, and left the den. Northstar blinked at Rabbitpaw, and she simply stared at him; he couldn't tell if she was angry or not.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I wasn't truly angry at you…I was angry at a lot of things."

She was silent.

"I didn't mean what I said, you know."

Rabbitpaw's gaze slid away from him. "Yes, you did. And you're right. I'm obnoxious, I know."

Northstar smiled. "Yes, you are. But I found myself missing your chatter, believe it or not."

She let out the quietest of purrs. "When can I train?"

Northstar blinked at her, and Rabbitpaw glanced down towards her legs, and let out a whimper. "I'll be able to train again, won't I?"

"Blackmoon says it is in the paws of StarClan," Northstar said slowly, "but I think they will allow you to train again; the others might be made warriors first."

Rabbitpaw's eyes glowed with determination. "I'll train twice as hard then, won't I? I'll make Dapplefern train me, even when she doesn't want to."

At this, Northstar couldn't hold back a smile. "You actually won't have to worry about her," he meowed. "You see, I had a talk with Lightstar…and I'll be your mentor."

At first, he wasn't sure whether Rabbitpaw was happy or sad about this news. Then, she let out an excited squeal. "Really? That's amazing, Northstar! I can't wait! I'll be trained by a real-life leader and everything! I bet you know _loads _Dapplefern would never teach me!"

Northstar's whiskers twitched at her excited tone. "Yes, I'll teach you all I can. But you must rest, understand?" He looked at her sternly. "You need to rest and heal up before you even think about doing anything remotely like training."

She gave him a small, eager nod. "Definitely!" Then, she blinked. "I guess I've missed loads, huh? What happened since I, uh, fell?"

Northstar sat down, wrapping his tail around his paws. "Well…."

. . .

He talked with Rabbitpaw until sunset – this time it was he who was the chatterbox, instead of the other way around. Finally Blackmoon returned, ushering Northstar out to give Rabbitpaw time to rest. Northstar promised to visit again the next day, before retreating to the warrior den and curling up within; the day had given him much to think about, such as being a mentor. Now that Rabbitpaw brought it up, he was worried. What would he teach her? He had never tutored an apprentice before, ever. Frozenstar had ignored that rule in order to make his son deputy; FrozenClan hadn't minded, they trusted Northstar, and were still getting used to the warrior code themselves.

His first thought was of Brackenheart, but he pushed it away roughly; considering what Brackenheart felt towards him was simply too confusing after their last conversation. He was grateful that Rabbitpaw was alive, yes, but also confused as to the path StarClan had apparently decided that he was taking. What was he supposed to do as a mentor? Brackenheart had been the best mentor in the history of FrozenClan – not that that was much – but even he had been unable to stop Northstar's life from falling into chaos as it had. What was he supposed to do to help Rabbitpaw?

The anxious thoughts chased him even in his dreams, wherein he dreamed he was running through thick forest – BirchClan territory, perhaps? – while Rabbitpaw's gray tail danced in front of him, almost tauntingly. Even as he poured on all of his famous speed, he couldn't catch her, until she disappeared entirely.

He awoke feeling more tired than he had when he had fallen asleep, and it was with great effort that he forced himself to his paws, grabbing a piece of prey to share with Rosedapple. However, when he entered the nursery there was already a vole tucked between her paws, half-eaten, and her blue eyes were glowing with interest.

"Have you heard?" she asked immediately. Northstar sat down.

"I don't think so," he said slowly.

"A patrol found evidence of cats living close by, just next to the river! Lots of them, from the sound of it. Isn't that weird? I can't believe we didn't know a group was living in our own borders."

_Silverstreak! _He thought immediately, and barely stopped himself from springing to his feet. In all the excitement of the Pool of Stars and Rabbitpaw's recovery, he had forgotten to even mention the group to Stoneheart or Lightstar.

"Were they captured?" he asked quickly, and she shook her head.

"It seems we missed them by a day or two," she replied. "There's a trail leading to the river, and a lot of mud was stirred up –whatever were they doing with that? – but the trail ends there."

"Cloaking their scent," Northstar grunted, "it's an old forest trick."

"Do you think you know them?" Rosedapple asked keenly. "Where do you think they went?"

Northstar hesitated, feeling torn. On one paw, admitting he knew them would allow him to perhaps put his plan into motion…on the other, perhaps it wasn't a good idea to turn on StarClan's golden she-cat right after they had done him a favor.

_Besides, Lightstar will do nothing about it and Stoneheart is wrapped up with Rabbitpaw's recovery, _he thought. _They…they aren't a threat now. If they're using mud then they're just hiding…waiting somewhere, I suppose. Stalling for time while they gather their strength. But no matter how many cats they get, even if they manage to whip a bunch of strays into shape, they can't beat PeakClan's numbers. These cats may be fat and happy, but there are too many of them for Silverstreak to consider fighting…if she tries to meet with us, then I'll tell them about her, but not until then. I'll cloak my paw for the time being._

Still faintly bothered, he shook his head. "A lot of cats know that trick, it could be anyone. Did they find a trail?"

"No; there was some dried mud in the grass, but mud dries very quickly," she answered. "They were gone in no time, I am sure. They probably ran off once they knew we were here; I doubt they'll come back."

Northstar held back a growl at her smugness; all of PeakClan was this way, so assured of their own power that they dismissed any and all threats.

"Perhaps," he replied, "but we should keep our guard up, send out more patrols and the like. If they don't leave, they could be dangerous; Twolegplace cats are very strong and cunning. They have to be, with the world they live in."

Rosedapple nodded slowly. "Mention that to Lightstar or Stoneheart," she suggested. "I'm sure they'll listen to you, as important as you are."

He blinked at her for a moment, the word ringing in his head: Important.

_It's true, _he thought. _I saved Rosedapple, and I have an apprentice now, don't I? I have friends in Rosedapple and Blackmoon…yes, I suppose I am important here. _The thought gave him the faintest glow of pleasure, but he didn't show it, hiding his face by licking his paws.

He and Rosedapple chatted to one another for awhile, until the sun was high at the peak of its daily rotation. Then he left her, to speak with Rabbitpaw instead.

Stoneheart was there, watching his daughter sleep. He turned as Northstar entered. Northstar dipped his head respectfully to him, and sat down.

"She's been sleeping for some time, but Blackmoon says that's normal for these sorts of injuries," Stoneheart meowed, anxiety in his usually calm voice.

"I spoke to her yesterday, and she was perfectly lucid; she just didn't remember the fall," Northstar meowed. "Blackmoon said she'll be fine, and should start training."

"I know." Stoneheart's eyes were trained on his daughter.

"She's going to be my apprentice," Northstar said quietly. Stoneheart turned towards him, surprised.

"Really? Lightstar didn't mention that."

Northstar ruffled his fur. "He seems to be a little…out of sorts."

Stoneheart sighed quietly. "Yes. I'm afraid the loss of Graywing has broken him…but he's a strong cat, I'm sure he'll pull through." Northstar wasn't sure if the words were supposed to assure him or Stoneheart; perhaps both of them needed a little reassuring.

_I should mention the patrols, _Northstar thought, feeling torn once more. _Surely it can't hurt to show my loyalty to this Clan, StarClan?_

"I heard there are some cats in the area," Northstar said cautiously, wary of a bolt of lightning from the heavens despite the sky being clear. Stoneheart nodded.

"Yes, indeed. They seem to have run off, though."

"It wouldn't hurt to add a few patrols, just to be sure, maybe train the apprentices more vigorously; we might need warriors if they prove to be hostile. More warriors will be more intimidating to the enemy, and they'll be more likely to back down rather than face losing many cats."

Stoneheart glanced at him. "I always seem to forget that you were a leader, once; you're experienced in such matters…if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your Clan?"

"I do mind," Northstar hissed, anger briefing flaring inside of him before he quenched it with a lick to the chest. "I mean, I would rather not talk about it. Losing my Clan was rather…painful. Suffice to say that I was betrayed."

Stoneheart shook his head ruefully. "Betrayal seems to be a common thing in the Clans," he said thoughtfully. To that, Northstar had nothing to say.

They sat in silence, watching Rabbitpaw sleep, until Northstar finally grew restless. Rising to his paws, he bid Stoneheart a quiet farewell before padding to the entrance.

He glanced up at the sky, noting that the sun was on its way to sinking, before loud yowls startled him. Unsheathing his claws, he turned quickly with a snarl on his muzzle towards the entrance. Padding forward was Foxclaw, with Blackmoon at his side.

"Stoneheart!" Blackmoon called, and the gray warrior appeared in the entrance.

"I was collecting herbs with Foxclaw – to protect me in case the hostile cats were still in the area – and, well…." Blackmoon trailed off uncertainly – he looked nervous – and stepped to the side. Northstar's eyes widened as a plump white she-cat was exposed, upon which a brown tabby was leaning on. Northstar stared into the she-cat's green eyes, and saw hatred burning in them, mirrored in the tabby tom's.

"Frostfeather," Northstar whispered in shock. The white she-cat gave a fierce hiss. Blackmoon gave her an almost pleading glance, as if warning her to be quiet.

"The tom is injured, and the she-cat is nursing so I said they could not be hurt," Blackmoon meowed. "She was trying to help him away, I think she's with the group living here. In fact, the rest of the group was fleeing when we found them; she came back to help the tom."

Stoneheart stood uncertainly, sizing up the two cats. "What do we do with them?"

Blackmoon swallowed. "The tom should stay in my den where I can care for his injuries; the she-cat should be kept in the prisoner den, away from him. We should try to find the others in the group; if they know these two aren't being hurt, they might try to talk to us rather than fight. And she's nursing kits, which are probably hungry by now unless they have another queen."

Stoneheart said something, but it was impossible to hear over the blood roaring in Northstar's ears. For a moment, he imagined his claws striking through Frostfeather's impossibly-white fur, slashing her, staining it crimson. Then, he shook himself; he could not allow himself to betray that sort of emotion to PeakClan, or they might question his sanity.

He wasn't so sure about it himself.

"Fine," Stoneheart said finally. Foxclaw glanced at him.

"Shouldn't we ask Lightstar before we let these scumbags into camp?" he demanded with a hiss.

"Lightstar is tired, and this is not such a bit matter," Stoneheart said wearily. "I trust Blackmoon's judgment. Blackmoon, help the tabby into your den, but keep him away from Rabbitpaw; I want a guard at all times. Move the female into the prisoner den, Foxclaw, and make sure she has a guard as well."

Foxclaw nodded, and nipped the female's shoulder. She didn't yelp with pain, but rather slashed out with her claws, catching him on the ear. Foxclaw snarled with anger, but a warning growl from Stoneheart kept him from retaliating. Roughly, he pushed Frostfeather towards a small den near the back of camp, while Blackmoon slipped forward to help the injured tabby tom. As they passed Northstar, the tom shot Northstar a strange, crooked grin.

"Remember me?"

**AN: BTW, the Scourge story will prolly be written anyway; it's not one of those "poor Scourge look what made him bad/look at how he fell in love and had babies" stories, since there are loads of those. As far as I know, what I'm planning is unique to the site (with one exception, but it's pretty different also in a different way). The Smokepaw one might seem a little Snatched-like, but creating a Clan won't even be a goal. My next story with either be about Scourge, Smokepaw, or perhaps even a sequel to this.**

**I can't wait for this batch of reviews! Your opinions on Northstar never cease to amuse/confuse/impress/amaze me!**


	27. C h a p t e r 26

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**26**

The glow of eyes made Silverstreak tense, and a feral growl ripped its way out of her throat.

"Who's there?" she snarled.

"Silverstreak?" Reedrush's familiar voice rushed over Silverstreak's ears like warm rainwater, and the silver tabby appeared, creeping down from the tree. "You're alright!" Reedrush rushed to her side, burying her nose in Silverstreak's fur. "Oh, Silverstreak, it was awful!"

Silverstreak gave her a comforting lick on the ear, but she was still tense. "What happened?"

"I went hunting, and I scented PeakClan cats," Reedrush mewed, "coming towards us. I knew we could fight them off but you wouldn't want that, right? And one of them was a medicine cat, he had a bunch of herbs in his mouth. We couldn't fight them. So I ran back to the others and we tried to flee; I carried Robinkit and Frostfeather had Jaykit, with Blizzardkit and Shimmer running behind us; Shimmer practically dragged my son along, she was wild. But Forest couldn't get away on his own so Frostfeather went back to help…and she never came back." Reedrush shuddered. "I should have gone with her to help, but I couldn't leave the kits all alone if we were captured…."

It was as if ice had crept its way into Silverstreak's heart. "So…Frostfeather and Forest were…captured?"

Reedrush nodded, her green eyes wide. "I knew you were supposed to be back around this time so I left Shimmer in charge so I could come find you…Silverstreak, what do we do?"

Silverstreak was staring sightlessly before her. _What do we do? _She wondered. _Northstar must have told them about us, they must have been planning to capture us the entire time! Oh, StarClan…please let them be safe._

_Northstar will have filled PeakClan's head with lies by now, or they wouldn't have captured Frostfeather and Forest. Negotiating with them will be out of the question._

"Silverstreak?"

Reedrush's voice snapped her out of her reverie, and she blinked. Her blue gaze turned cool, sharp as ice.

"What are we going to do?" the younger she-cat asked timidly.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do," Silverstreak growled. "We're going to steal them back."

. . .

Shimmer's eyes widened as Silverstreak entered the den. The kit almost looked as if she was going to rush forward, but seemed to think better of it, returning her blue gaze towards Frostfeather's two kits. The blind kits were squealing with outrage and hunger. With an apologetic glance towards Silverstreak, Reedrush padded forward and curled around the kits, urging them to feed.

"You okay?" Shimmer asked coolly, glancing at Silverstreak. Normally Silverstreak would have smiled at Shimmer's pretend disinterest, but she was not in the best of moods; Northstar could be hurting Frostfeather or Forest at that very moment, and there was nothing she could do about it. Perhaps Blackmoon would help her friends, but she wasn't certain; after all, new cats had never been part of the deal with Blackmoon. What would he think of them?

"What we gonna do?" Shimmer asked.

"Not we, I," Silverstreak answered. "Reedrush must stay here with the kits. I'll save Frostfeather and Forest, don't you worry. I'll find a way."

"Now wait just a minute!" Reedrush exclaimed. "I'm going to help too! How will you get poor Forest down that big mountain, hmm?"

"No," Silverstreak said firmly. "You have to stay here and take care of everyone. If I don't come back, you must wait until the half moon, and then go to find Eaglestrike and the others; they'll be waiting for you. Understand?"

Reedrush's fur bristled. "I'm not going to let you leave me here alone!"

Silverstreak's eyes gentled slightly. "Reedrush, you're half my age," she said gently, "and with a kit of your own that needs you. I don't have anyone that needs me, understand? Shimmer can take care of herself – although I love you, don't think I don't – and if something happens to me then Eaglestrike will make an excellent leader."

Reedrush's ears flattened; clearly she didn't like anyone reminding her of how young she was. "You haven't done half of the stuff I have to survive," she growled.

"And you haven't seen a quarter of the horrors I've seen. Believe me, I know more than anyone what it is like to lose friends and family. Now, I need to be able to count on you, okay? I need to know that my family will be safe here."

Reedrush held her gaze with a glare for a moment, before finally dropping it to her paws. "Fine. I understand."

Silverstreak nosed her cheek. "Thank you."

She turned to Shimmer. "Now, I need you to be good too, okay? You're going to be our very first apprentice in a moon, and I need you to be fit and healthy when that time comes. Alright?"

Shimmer looked mutinous at the thought of being left out of the action, but she gave Silverstreak a tiny nod.

"There's nothing I can do tonight – it's too dangerous without light – so I'll rest here. I'll leave first thing in the morning," Silverstreak decided, then rose to her paws. "I'm going to get some moss for bedding, I'll be back soon I promise."

Feeling their eyes on her, she pushed her way through the narrow entrance of the den underneath a scraggly bush, giving a quick glance around the area before emerging completely.

_A lucky find for us, _Silverstreak thought, glancing towards the den. _If Reedrush hadn't found it, she might have been captured as well, although with the kits…._

Such troubling thoughts weighed heavily on her mind as she padded to the river, gathering damp moss from the slick boulders. But the toughest thoughts she flinched away from, unable to ponder whether or not her friends' lives hung in the balance at that very moment.

When she returned to the den, the troubling thoughts continued to grow, eating away at her; it was almost like she was aching from some invisible wound, as she curled up in her nest, watching Reedrush lie with the kits pressed against her stomach, guarding over them.

_You didn't feel this way when you left Frostfeather behind, _a tiny voice said.

_Her life wasn't hanging in the balance then._

_Of course _that's _why you feel this way._

Pushing the voice away, she rested her head on her paws, closing her eyes. She had to rest; she had to make sure she had the energy to take on PeakClan tomorrow, if she was going to save Frostfeather…and Forest.

. . .

Morning light made her blink, and she uncurled slowly, glancing at Reedrush, who was asleep, her head still tilted towards the entrance as if she was still watching over the kits. Gently, she nosed the silver tabby awake.

"Yes?" Reedrush asked sleepily, snapping to attention as she remember the events of the day before. "Are you leaving, Silverstreak?"

She nodded. "I should be back at nightfall, hopefully with Frostfeather and Forest…or perhaps not. I might only be scouting the area to see how we can escape, I don't yet know. Keep an eye on everyone here, okay? This is a good hiding place if you can keep everyone quiet; I'm sure PeakClan will be sniffing around, so just keep your head down."

Reedrush nodded. "Of course. Be safe."

Silverstreak smiled. "I will. Take care."

Silently, she slipped out of the den.

. . .

She didn't pause to eat on her way to the Peak; she was feeling clear-headed and strong, and knew that it would only slow her down. She needed to get up to the Peak quickly, before another patrol left; if she was caught on the path up, it was all over, simple as that.

As she made it over the river, the Peak loomed before her, almost menacingly. She shivered, although she wasn't sure if it was from the cold, or fear. She glanced up at the sky, noting the sun barely rising over the horizon; the dawn patrol should have just left PeakClan, if they were on time with such things. That gave her a narrow window to get up the Peak, sneak around the wooden area to get to the back of camp, and hopefully locate wherever Frostfeather and Forest were being held…if they were still alive.

She pushed the thought away, looking up the path to the Peak. They would be alive because they had to be. She would never let anyone tear apart her family – her Clan – again.

Then, her eyes widened as something occurred to her. The night before had been the new moon. It had been one moon since she and her friends had embarked on their journey to rebuild BirchClan. Despair rose within her; what had they done with that precious time? She had deserted her friends and gotten herself kidnapped, instead of worked to rebuild a Clan. She had nursed Forest back to health for days, only to leave the Clan for a single day and return to find him gone. She had found Reedrush and Jag, but hadn't they been guided to her, instead of the other way around? What had she really done, with all of this time?

Her shoulders slumped. _Why did StarClan choose me? I've wasted an entire moon here, doing absolutely nothing…what have we gained in such a long time? We should have worked harder. How long do we have until Lion comes crashing down on us? Another moon? Can I really create a Clan in that amount of time?_

She placed a paw on the well-worn stone path, pushing the worrisome thoughts away. _I will create a Clan…because I have to._

_I need to hurry, before the dawn patrol returns and the sunhigh patrol leaves._

She took a step forward, before freezing as words reached her ears. She turned with a hiss, but nothing greeted her eyes. Feeling unnerved, she glanced around again, before taking a step forward. As she did so, the voices started speaking again. They were whispering, she realized, although she didn't know where they were coming from.

_How can I hear them over the sound of the waterfall? _She wondered. _It's almost like…they're coming from behind…._With another glance towards the Peak, she took a step towards the waterfall. Instantly, the whispers grew louder.

_Are they behind it? How did they get there? _She wondered, before noticing a small path that seemed to be carved into the very wall. Slowly, she crept forward, pressing her thick pelt against the stone. Placing one paw in front of the other, she padded down the thin ledge, blinking in surprise as the path opened into a tunnel. The whispers seemed to be coming from it, growing louder. Squeezing into the narrow tunnel, she headed through it, ears pricked. She could almost discern words from the whispering voices…but she couldn't quite pick them out….

She stopped, and her eyes widened at the cavern before her. She could seem dim shafts of light coming from the top of the cave, sending soft light glittering on the water. For a moment she was frozen, listening to the voices echoing around her, before they suddenly stopped, sending a last syllable ringing into the air.

She stared up at the ceiling, watching the light for a moment, before returning her gaze to the water. _Is this where they speak to StarClan? _She wondered. She was surprised to realize that these 'Clan' cats spoke to StarClan at all, the way they lived their lives. _It makes sense; by living on the Peak they are putting themselves on top of StarClan. They're placing themselves higher than the stars themselves, just as Blackmoon said._

She let out a hiss at the thought of their arrogance, before taking a step forward and feeling the cold water lap against her paws. _Do I lick it, like at FourPool? _She wondered. _I never actually spoke to StarClan…Eaglestrike never told me about it either, he wasn't allowed to. You aren't allowed to talk about it…I always assumed that you did, anyway, it didn't make any sense to do it any other way…so do I…?_

She bent down, taking a breath of the slightly-sweet smell of the water, before lapping up a few precious drops. They were cold against her tongue, and chilled her throat even as they went down, settling somewhere in her stomach, still emanating a slight chill.

Weariness suddenly swept over her, and she slumped to the ground; within moments she was gone.

. . .

_She knew what awaited her before she opened her eyes._

"_Father!" she exclaimed, and the pale tabby gave her a small grin as he padded through the thick mist. "Daughter," he greeted her, giving her a lick around the ear. She felt a brief moment of happiness, before remembering the situation at paw._

"_I have to hurry, Frostfeather and Forest are in danger!" she exclaimed. "What did you want to speak to me about, Father?"_

_Fadedstar glanced over his shoulder, and Silverstreak blinked as a gray tom with glowing amber eyes padded forward._

Ashstir, _she thought, remembering Reedrush's story. _The one who led me all this way.

"_Hello, Ashstir, sir," she mewed hesitantly. He gave her a warm smile, reminding her of her own father, and she found herself smiling back._

"_It's good to finally meet you in the flesh; I'm thankful for the help you've given me, and your daughter."_

_Ashstir's amber eyes glowed. "I wish you could give her my greetings, but this visit must remain a secret," he warned. "What we have to say is only for your ears."_

_Silverstreak blinked at them expectantly. Her father brushed his tail down her side._

"_First, we would like to say that we're proud of you; you've done more in this past moon than you might think," he said. "You've found several cats __–__ Death, Buck, Forest __–__ who will become loyal warriors for your new Clan. You've found your true territory, and you are preparing your new friends for the lives of warriors. We couldn't expect more from such a short time. Don't let the burden of leadership hold you down, understand? You are a leader now, but you are not responsible for everything. PeakClan seizing Frostfeather and Forest was in no way your fault, or anyone else's."_

"_Second," Ashstir said quietly, "we must warn you. Being a leader is not easy; sometimes your emotions will cloud your judgment. It can be good to consider how you yourself feel when making a decision, but do not let it rule your entire decision."_

Is he talking about Forest? _She thought anxiously. _Or someone else?

"_And thirdly, we'd advise you to hurry," Fadedstar meowed. "Not to put pressure on you, my darling, but Lion will be coming for you eventually. We believe it might be later than you initially thought, but he is coming nevertheless. Keep your eyes on the goal, understand? Don't focus too much on the small details; everything will fall into place. I'm proud of you." He glanced over his shoulder, as looking at other cats that she couldn't see. "We all are."_

_Silverstreak smiled at him, rubbing muzzles gently. Then, Ashstir's ears pricked, and he seemed to be distracted by something._

"_Wake up, Silverstreak," he said quickly. "There's something you need to see! Remember, don't let your emotions cloud your judgment!"_

_Silverstreak blinked in surprise as the dream melted around her. She saw Fadedstar's gentle blue eyes as her father watched her disappear, before everything faded away._

She opened her eyes, rising to her paws quickly. She shook herself, sending droplets of water flying. Giving the pool a last glance, she padded towards the entrance as quickly as she could.

She squeezed through the tunnel and was padding up the waterfall-ledge, before a scream reached her ears. She couldn't pick out the word, but she froze as she picked up the horrible sound of crunching bone. Hurrying down the ledge, she stopped in horror.

A bloody lump of golden fur met her astonished gaze; blood seeped from it, creating a pool even as she watched. She could already tell that the cat, whoever it had been, was dead.

But what had happened? Had it fallen? Or…been pushed? She quickly pressed herself against the side of the ledge, feeling cool stone against her muzzle, and looked up. A hiss of hatred ripped its way out of her as she saw a familiar white face looking down – not at her, but at the still body.

Northstar.

She swallowed, but he didn't appear to see her; she watched as he turned and his face disappeared.

She stood there for a moment, panting as the smell of blood clogged her nose.

_Why would he do this? _She wondered. _He never used to kill unless it suited his purposes…did he? He killed his own father for power…so who was this cat? Their deputy, perhaps? Is he hoping he could take his place?_

_They'll be here in a few moments, surely, to retrieve the body. Blackmoon will come to see if he can do anything…he might even come to the pool for guidance from StarClan, if this really was their deputy…._

_What do I do? They'll be down here in seconds, there's no way I can get up there now….Why do they have only one entrance, huh? Where's the sense in that?_

Then, she blinked. _Not even PeakClan is that stupid, _she thought slowly. _If something happens to one path, they're stranded there, aren't they? They must have a back-up somewhere…._

Peeking out from her position, she saw the pathway was clear. Quickly, she darted past the path, rounding the edge of the stone column. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw shaped moving down the path, although they couldn't see her any longer.

She stared up at the Peak, frowning, looking for another way up. Surely they had another path. But, even after going in almost a complete circle around the Peak – halting just short of being spotted by the cats dragging the mysterious dead warrior back to camp – she could find nothing.

_Idiots, _she thought crossly. _What happens if we block their only exit, huh? _She stowed that idea away – it might be useful if it ever came to blows with PeakClan – before sighing quietly.

_It's possible to climb up, I suppose, _she thought grimly, _I almost wish I was a PeakClan cat._

Scowling, she fastened her claws onto the side of the stone, pulling herself upwards. Her claws found the smallest cranny or nook to hold onto, even as her muscles screamed at this strange work. _It's just a tree, _she thought, her jaw clenched with determination. _Just a gigantic…enormous…tree!_

Her claws latched onto a narrow ledge, and she pulled herself up, panting. Glancing at the sky, she saw the sun was near its peak. With a sigh, she looked up; it would take her at least half an hour to reach the top. Looking down, she winced; going up would be much easier. Licking her claws and scraped pads, she steeled herself and began climbing again.

The minutes seemed to blur themselves as she continued; it was just the next ledge, and the next, the next movement up, the next pull….As she pulled herself onto yet another ledge, she blinked with surprise as she found herself staring into thick forest.

Letting out a sigh of relief, she scrabbled her way on top; she laid there for several moments, panting, already feeling exhausted.

She forced herself to her paws, her mouth open and her ears pricked. Her legs were trembling slightly – from exhaustion or fear, she couldn't quite say – as she pushed her way through the thick brush.

_This is just a fire waiting to happen, _she thought crossly. _One ember floats up here, catches the forest on fire, blocks their only exit…._She let out an irritated growl. _It'll be their own fault. Hopefully Northstar will be caught up in it, too._

Voices made her ears prick again, and she listened intently, although she was too far away to pick up any real words. Creeping forward, she peered through the fronds of a fern, smiling as the camp opened before her.

The warrior's body was lying in the camp to one side; almost the entire Clan was around it, their heads bowed in mourning. A large gray tom was standing close by, and her breath caught as she saw Northstar beside him. His head was lowered in mock-sorrow; she couldn't see his expression. Barely able to contain a hiss, her eyes darted around camp. The biggest entrance was the warrior's den, and she could see small eyes peering out of what was probably the apprentice den. A large dappled she-cat was standing in another entrance, horror in her blue eyes; mewls from the den made her turn towards it, and Silverstreak guessed that it was nursery. That only left two, then; one she could see several leaves within, so it was the medicine cat's. That only left the last to be the prisoner den.

Nibbling her lip anxiously, she weighed her options. Did she dare risk creeping into PeakClan's own camp?

_I don't have much of a choice, do I? _She wondered. Keeping her belly low to the ground, she crawled forward, her head peeking from between the ferns. With a glance around the camp, she saw all eyes were trained on the body, although it had been slightly cleaned up.

The gray tom suddenly rose, and she froze, eyes wide. Slowly, she wormed her way back into hiding.

"The loss of Lightstar is a painful one," he said in a low rasp, "none know it more so than I, especially so soon after losing our medicine cat, Graywing. Blackmoon has stepped in to fill Graywing's position, and thus I must fill Lightstar's. I promise to you all that I will serve PeakClan as nobly and proudly as Lightstar did, or the leaders before him." He dipped his head, and the crowd gave a low murmur.

Seeing her chance, Silverstreak darted into the prisoner den. Frostfeather's eyes were closed as she entered, but as she drew close the white she-cat surprised her by springing to her paws with a snarl.

"I'm not tell you any—oh!" she exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Silverstreak! What are you doing here?" she hissed in a low voice. "You have to get out of here! Did you hear what happened? Their leader, Lightstar, fell from the top of the Peak…but I think he was pushed. It was Northstar who brought the news back! I think he killed him like he did his father, in hopes of being made deputy!" Her green eyes were wide.

"If so, his hopes will be thwarted," Silverstreak said firmly. "He hasn't mentored an apprentice for this Clan, and he's still a newcomer. They're enamored of him, I'm sure, but if Blackmoon is the medicine cat then he will keep the warrior code strong within this Clan. Northstar will have moons to wait yet." She blinked, remembering her forgotten anxiety. "Are you alright, Frostfeather? Did they hurt you in any way?"

She shook her head quickly. "I'm fine, Blackmoon stepped in for us. He ordered that I couldn't be hurt, since I'm nursing. Forest is fine too, in his den; Blackmoon's tending to his injuries. He's taken really good care of us, Silverstreak; he's a good cat. The warriors have pressed us for information, but they can't do anything to us while we're here. Northstar, though…." She shuddered. "He definitely knew we're here."

"He knew before, he's the one who arranged all this," Silverstreak growled, her tail lashing. Frostfeather shrugged.

"He seemed surprised when Blackmoon and Foxclaw brought us back, at least," she mewed, "but I think it was probably just because he was surprised to see PeakClan do something right, for once." She and Silverstreak shared a quiet purr of amusement.

"Best get out of here, though," Frostfeather advised. "They won't be kept busy with this for long….And they'll be coming back to check on me soon, I'm sure."

Silverstreak nodded quickly. "They'll sit vigil for Lightstar tonight, and put in the new deputy," she meowed. "When that happens, you slip away, understand? I'll meet you there with Forest. We'll circle around the camp and head down the path by the waterfall."

"Is Forest well enough? He had a hard time coming up, with support, and we weren't moving that quickly."

Silverstreak swallowed. "He'll have to be. Keep sharp, understand? If something goes wrong…we might not be able to come back for you." She hesitated, then licked Frostfeather's muzzle. "Be strong, okay? I'm proud of you for going back for Forest; it's what your mother would have done."

Frostfeather looked away at the mention of her mother. "Thanks," she mewed, her voice uncharacteristically choked-up. "I…I've been thinking of her, and everyone lately…wondering if we're doing the right thing…."

Thinking of her recent chat with Fadedstar and Ashstir, she smiled. "StarClan is proud of us. I know it."

Frostfeather gave her a quick, trembling smile, and with that Silverstreak slipped away.

. . .

She shifted her weight, causing the branch to rattle slightly against its neighbor, her eyes narrowed as she stared up at the sky. _Come on,_ she thought, nibbling her lip. Slowly but surely, the sun sank towards the horizon.

Her eyes flitted back towards camp; in newleaf it would be covered from sight by vegetation, but not so in leaf-bare.

She let out a growl, shifting again restlessly; she felt almost as if she was vibrating with anxiety. _StarClan, let this go right, _she prayed, looking up at the sky even though there was not a single star twinkling. _Please. _

Movement made her glance down; heads were appearing in dens, as cats looked up at the sky expectantly, waiting for the gray tom to make his appearance. Nibbling on one paw, Silverstreak watched eagerly.

He finally appeared, striding from the medicine den. Thick muscles rippled under his dark gray pelt, and she watched him keenly; he was not a soft PeakClan cat. This time, whatever his name, was made of tough warrior grit. He would be a good leader for PeakClan, she was certain even without knowing him; there was a gleam to his eyes, a certainty in the way he surveyed his new Clan, a slight sadness in the look he gave to Lightstar's broken body.

The sun dipped underneath the horizon, finally; turning, Silverstreak saw the faintest silver glow. Glancing down, she saw the gray tom watching the moon as well. He waited while Silverstreak's heart drummed, until the entire moon had risen. Then, finally, he spoke.

"My Clan."

There was a murmur from the Clan as they emerged from their dens, moving towards their leader's fallen body.

"My Clan, PeakClan, watchful warriors of the forest," he meowed in a deep, soothing voice. "I, Stoneheart, stand before you now, a deputy ready to become leader. Lightstar died before his time; it is unfortunate that StarClan called him to their sides so soon."

_StarClan had nothing to do it, _Silverstreak thought fiercely; her eyes hunted for Northstar, finally spotting him standing next to the dappled queen. Her eyes were round with sorrow; as she watched, the queen buried her face in Northstar's white fur. He did not move, but his golden eyes glanced down towards her. If Silverstreak hadn't known better, hadn't hated him so fiercely, she would have said that it was fondness in those golden eyes.

"But StarClan has made their choice, claimed him, and there is nothing we can do about that now," Stoneheart continued in his same rumbling tones, like the roll of thunder overhead. Silverstreak was almost transfixed by the even tones; it took her a moment to realize that this was her moment, her time to save Forest. Silently, she slipped out of the tree, crawling to the border between forest and camp. Watching Stoneheart, she edged her way towards the medicine den. Blackmoon was far away, sitting next to Lightstar's body; his eyes, like everyone else's, were trained firmly on his new leader. "And so, I say this before Lightstar's spirit, so that he may look down and approve my choice; Sandpelt will be the new deputy."

Heads turned as a pale ginger tom rose to his paws; Silverstreak made her move, slipping into the medicine den.

Forest's brown head rose; at first he was surprised, before his green eyes softened gently as he gazed upon her. "Hello," he whispered. "Come to say goodbye?"

Her pelt prickled hotly as she stared at him, taking a moment to understand his words. "Goodbye?"

Forest nodded slowly, giving her his crooked smile; she felt warmth seep into her fur, and she found herself smiling back. "I have to stay here, Silverstreak; I have to let my leg heal properly. Blackmoon can do that. You cannot."

She blinked as she realized what he was saying. Hurt suddenly washed over her like a wave, nearly knocking her over. "What?"

He gave the tiniest of shrugs. "I'm sorry, but it has to be this way. I can't let my leg heal crooked; I can't be a cripple, even for you. I'm sorry, princess, but you've got to go without me."

It was the nickname that snapped her out of her haze of hurt. Suddenly her gaze sharpened, as she realized what he was doing. "You're trying to get me to save Frostfeather," she whispered. "You don't think you can keep up. You want to stay here so I won't be captured too."

Forest's gaze slid away from hers, and his shoulders slumped. "Can't blame me for trying…but princess, you've got to go. There's no reason they can't interrogate you; you aren't nursing, or injured. Northstar hates you far more than Frostfeather or I. He'll hurt you. He'll break you."

Anger crackled over her pelt at the thought of the black-footed tom. "He'll never be able to break me, no matter what he tries. But I'm not leaving you, Forest, I'm not." Then, before she knew what she was doing, she licked his muzzle. Forest's eyes widened, and she looked away quickly, feeling her tongue tingling. Glancing over her shoulder, she flicked her tail. "Come on, get up. Let's go."

She couldn't look at him, feeling hot under her fur. Then, slowly she heard the noises of leaves crackling as he forced himself to his paws. She turned towards him, smiling as she saw him standing unsteadily on all four paws. Moving forward to allow him to lean on her, she saw his gaze flit to another still body that she hadn't noticed.

"That's his apprentice, you know," Forest rasped. "Northstar's. He's in here all the time; apparently she was injured like Lightstar. She used to be someone else's, but after her accident she was given to him.

A chill went through Silverstreak's heart; he was that closer to becoming deputy, then. Had he arranged the accident too, to get the apprentice? Was it a coincidence that she and Lightstar had both fallen?

She pushed the thoughts away; all that mattered was getting Forest out of camp. Together, they headed for the entrance.

Blue eyes blocked their way. Blackmoon stopped in shock, staring at the two of them, frozen.

"Silverstreak?" Blackmoon whispered, his gaze flitting from her, to Forest, and back. "What are you doing?"

Raising her chin bravely, she meowed, "Saving Forest. Did you really think I would just leave him here?"

Blackmoon's ears flattened. "I thought…I thought you were leaving, once Forest was healed," he growled. "He's well enough to travel, you should have left!"

She swallowed. "We never meant to deceive you, Blackmoon…but we're here to stay. StarClan has told me that I have to build a new Clan. We're creating it on the other side of the river."

Blackmoon's eyes flashed angrily. "I save his life, and you repay me by stealing my Clan's territory?"

Her ears flattened at the betrayal in his voice. "I thought we were leaving, honestly, but StarClan has said that this is where we must stay. Please, Blackmoon, you understand this; StarClan made the choice for us."

She could see the pain in his eyes, and realized that he was now torn between love for his Clan and love for StarClan. His gaze flitted over his shoulder, to the gathered cats; all it would take was a shout, and she'd be captured like Forest and Frostfeather.

"Please," Forest growled, surprising her. "We don't want to be enemies with PeakClan; that was never our intention. We're simply here because StarClan spoke to Silverstreak, and said that this was our home."

Surprised by his use of 'our' and 'we', Silverstreak gave him a gentle nuzzle. As she did so, Blackmoon's eyes softened.

"I have to put my faith in StarClan," he murmured, although whether it was more to himself or to them, she couldn't be sure. "Back up, let me inside," he ordered, pushing past them. "If I backed out, it would call attention…now, Stoneheart is about to leave for the Pool of Stars, and I have to come with him. I was getting some herbs to help us speak to StarClan more easily. He grabbed a packet of herbs, and gave them a nod. "Wait until we begin to leave; everyone will be watching. Leave then." He held Silverstreak's gaze for a moment, before disappearing. Forest leaned against the side of the den, allowing Silverstreak to carefully peek out. Stoneheart accepted the herbs from Blackmoon, and chewed them; then, with the stares of everyone upon them, he and Blackmoon headed for the entrance.

"Come on," Silverstreak hissed to Forest. He leaned up against her, sending fresh prickles through her fur, as they slowly made their way out of the den, keeping to the shadows of camp and then slinking into the undergrowth. Only when camp disappeared behind them did Silverstreak let out a sigh of relief.

"I can't believe that worked," she whispered to Forest. He shook his head wordlessly.

"We can't go down the path at night, like I thought," she meowed, "so we'll have to wait until dawn, I suppose…let's find Frostfeather, she should be here somewhere." Opening her mouth to catch the white queen's scent, she and Forest pressed through the undergrowth slowly.

"Silverstreak?" she heard a voice whisper her name. Looking around in confusion, she heard a branch creak above her. Looking up, she saw green eyes gleaming down at her. Her face broke into a wide smile as Frostfeather made her way down.

"Thank StarClan you got out okay," she mewed, brushing muzzles with Frostfeather. "Are you alright?"

Frostfeather nodded quickly. "What now?"

Glancing at Forest, she mewed, "We can't make it down tonight, not with the stones so slick in the dark with barely any moonlight…we'll wait until morning. But you should go, Reedrush is probably worried sick by now."

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Forest let out an amused purr. "I wouldn't worry about her."

"True," Frostfeather meowed, and brushed muzzles with Silverstreak again. "Fine, I'll go. Be careful, okay? Find a den to cozy up in together, keep each other warm." She gave Silverstreak a mischievous grin, before disappearing into the darkness. Forest and Silverstreak shared glances, then began poking around in the darkness, hoping to find a den.

"Let's just huddle underneath these leaves," Forest suggested. "We aren't going to find anywhere better."

Privately thankful for the aversion of the awkwardness of being pressed up against Forest all night, Silverstreak agreed. Allowing Forest to rest against a trunk, she carefully pushed away any damp leaves from underneath, and cleared it slightly to allow him better access. Then, she guided in him into the hollow between the leaves, snuggling next to him with a slight sigh.

"Thank you," Forest said as she rested her head on her paws. "For coming for us. You shouldn't have come for me."

She rolled her eyes. "Like I was going to let PeakClan cheat me out of all the time I spent nursing you back to health," she purred. "Don't be silly."

"Would you have done it for anyone?"

Glancing at him, she felt her face heat up, silently thanking StarClan for the lack of moonlight. "Um…." She swallowed. "Perhaps…perhaps I wouldn't have acted so rashly, charging into camp like that."

Forest let out a purr that she could feel through her paws. Then, to her surprise, he moved slightly, resting his muzzle on her back. She blinked, then relaxed slightly against his warm side.

"Goodnight, princess," he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear.

"Goodnight," she whispered back, feeling his heart thudding against her side, his smell enveloping her, the sound of his breathing rising slowly and steadily next to her ear. She felt lulled by it, and she welcomed the slide into sleep.

**AN: Remember to tell me what I did right/wrong in my reviews!**

**Also, I updated the blog. Feel free to submit requests for bios (someone did a long time ago, but I don't remember who it was or who they requested). Anyone but Belladonna, she's too hard to make in a normal thing...it just doesn't look as pretty as it does in real-life, grrr.**


	28. C h a p t e r 27: Blackmoon

**AN: So according to warrior's wikia (I don't read the series anymore; even creating a fourth series is ridonkulous, after what a stinker the third was…the second was passable, but held none of the first's charm) the whole cats-disappearing-in-the-Dark-Forest-after-time thing I used in JtR is actually canon! Cool, eh?**

**Also, my one-year anniversary on this site came and went as of December 9****th****. We should have had a party!**

**So, someone suggested a Blackie chapter. At first I was all 'lolno' but then I realized I was stuck. So here we are.**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**27: Blackmoon**

"Nervous?" Blackmoon asked softly. Stoneheart glanced at him.

"No."

Blackmoon smiled warmly. "It's okay, I understand. Everyone's nervous when they speak to StarClan for the first time. You don't have to hide that from me. While you're a leader, you and I will be very close; if you're ever worried or concerned about something, you'll come to me. I'll do whatever I can to help."

Stoneheart nodded, then sighed quietly. "Thank you. You might have been a better choice for medicine cat than Graywing, all those moons ago…but I suppose that doesn't matter now." He turned his gaze onto Blackmoon. "I am worried. Exactly what is going to happen?"

Blackmoon stopped walking. Stoneheart gave him a questioning look, and Blackmoon flicked his tail towards the path leading down to the bottom of the waterfall. "You first."

Stoneheart started down the path, with Blackmoon on his tail. They walked in silence – talking was difficult, especially with the stain of Lightstar's blood just below them. Stoneheart halted at the foot of the Peak, waiting for Blackmoon to catch up. The black tom couldn't help but stare at the rusty-brown stain in the pale dirt, before turning away, his ears flat. After a short pause, Stoneheart began walking again, padding slowly but carefully down the ledge behind the waterfall. With another glance at Lightstar's blood, Blackmoon followed.

The roar of the waterfall prevented them from talking, and then the tunnel muffled their voices.

"We really need to get that resized," Stoneheart meowed as he finally pulled himself through, into the cavern. Blackmoon let out a quiet purr.

"I'll see what I can do for that," he said, before flicking his tail towards the pool. Stoneheart paused uncertainly, staring at the moonlight dappled the pool's surface.

"This is it," Stoneheart said, a slight tremble of uncertainty in his deep voice. "What do I do? What is it like?"

"All you do is lick the water; you'll feel tired very quickly. It's best to lie down, or you'll fall."

"And the ceremony itself?"

Blackmoon gave a small shrug. "I honestly don't know; I've never seen one myself, and we aren't allowed to talk about it to anyone. What happens here tonight stays here."

"And what if they don't show themselves? What if they don't give me my nine lives?"

"With these new cats in the forest, we need a leader," Blackmoon mewed. "They'll be after us quickly now that we have their friends. StarClan knows that; they won't turn you away now, when your Clan needs a strong leader more than anything."

Stoneheart gave the smallest of nods, and Blackmoon touched his flank with his tail. "Don't worry. I'll be with you the entire time, I promise."

Together, they stepped forward towards the pool, kneeling and lapping up the water. Blackmoon glanced at Stoneheart, watching the gray tom's eyes droop, and his head loll to one side, moments before Blackmoon felt the same weariness sweeping over him. With a sigh, he closed his eyes, resting his head on his paws.

. . .

_He smiled, recognizing the mistiness from his first visit with StarClan, after Graywing's death. He glanced around, and padded to stand beside Stoneheart._

"_Is this right?" the gray tom growled, and Blackmoon nodded. _

"_There," he said softly, pointing with his tail. Nine shadowy figures were stepping forward from the mist. Blackmoon's eyes raced over them, searching for Lightstar's golden pelt, but he was not present. Graywing, however, was; she gave him the slightest of smiles before stepping forward._

"_Stoneheart," she meowed, "tonight your life begins anew. With Lightstar's death, you have been thrust into a position of leadership, and have come here for your nine lives. You shall receive them. StarClan welcomes you as the next leader of PeakClan."_

_She glanced at Blackmoon, and he took a step back, allowing her to stride forward._

"_With this life, I give you love for everyone in your Clan, from the oldest elder to the smallest kit; they are all yours to take care of now," she mewed, and touched Stoneheart's nose with her own. Stoneheart suddenly stiffened, his jaw clenched in pain, trembling slightly with the exertion. Blackmoon watched as Graywing stepped back, the stars on her pelt shimmering slightly as she watched Stoneheart pant. With a slight smile, she turned away from him; however, instead of padding back to the others, she turned to Blackmoon instead._

"_Walk with me," she whispered. Blackmoon glanced at Stoneheart, but the second cat, Russetstar, the leader before Lightstar, was already stepping forward. Blackmoon followed Graywing into the mist._

"_What is it?" he asked anxiously. "Is something wrong? Did Lightstar make it here safely?"_

_She nodded slowly, turning to face him. "Lightstar is here, and fine. But there is much to worry about for those still alive."_

"_What happened?" Blackmoon demanded. "Lightstar is young, incredibly so; he never even mentored an apprentice! Russetstar made him his deputy out of necessity; there was no time for him to have an apprentice of his own. I was young, but I still remember."_

_Graywing sighed softly. "Lightstar was not the right cat to lead; Russetstar did the best he could, thinking that he could bring forth another deputy. But as you know, Russetstar died suddenly of sickness, and Lightstar found himself as a leader. He came to us as Stoneheart is tonight, asking for his nine lives. StarClan did not grant them to him. We could not tell him that he was not the right leader; he would not have stepped down, and it would have clouded his judgment. We simply did not appear, thinking that it would be easiest if he only had one life; he would be gone that much quicker, allowing a more capable cat to take control." She bowed her head. "I…I cannot say that I'm not glad to find him at my side again so soon…sooner than it should have been for him, but he was miserable without me."_

"_But Stoneheart is getting his lives; he'll be a good leader?"_

"_We cannot say for certain, but there is goodness in his heart. He is strong, firm, and loyal to the warrior code. He is the best leader PeakClan could hope for during these troubling times."_

_Blackmoon found his pelt burning with shame at the mention of troubling times; surely by helping Silverstreak and Forest escape, he had made everything worse. The worry over the incident had hid in the back of his mind while he had been reassuring Stoneheart, but now that he was with Graywing it had intensified, gnawing at him. Surely at least one cat would notice how strangely he had acted before leaving with their new leader?_

"_Did I do the right thing?" he asked finally. "Should I have let them go as I did?"_

"_StarClan cannot tell the future," she said softly, "but Silverstreak is very important to many cats…to PeakClan as well. You could not have let her be captured; it might have ruined everything. There is a great evil coming, Blackmoon, stemming from the purest of intentions."_

_Blackmoon's ears pricked. "What evil?"_

_She shook her head. "Again, I cannot say; there are rules as to what StarClan can and cannot give away. I know you are frustrated – I was also, when StarClan hid things from me – but we cannot interfere too closely with the lives of the living. In the end, it's your judgment that matters, not ours. But this evil is gathering his forces, taking his time to ensure that his fighting force will be mighty. PeakClan will not survive without help."_

"_Help? From who? Silverstreak is creating her own group of cats here…maybe even a Clan, for all I know. She's a good cat, but…." His eyes widened. "She isn't the great evil, is she? Her intentions are pure, I'm sure, but…."_

"_The coming evil is not a cat you know…although it would be wise to keep up your guard," she said mysteriously. Blackmoon's eyes narrowed._

"_Is someone in PeakClan dangerous as well? Is that what you're saying now? That I can't even trust my own Clanmates?" he demanded. "I wanted to become a medicine cat to help my Clan. I can't believe that they're 'evil' any more than I could believe that a fox raised me! My Clan is all I have. I'm willing to care for all of them like they're my own; I can't suspect them of treachery."_

"_We understand," Graywing mewed, "I felt the same way."_

"_Yes, you loved your Clan so much that you had to go and mate with the leader!" Blackmoon spat. Graywing's eyes widened, and Blackmoon immediately felt ashamed. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm just…Rabbitpaw fell and nearly died, Lightstar's dead, I betrayed my Clan helping Forest escape, and now you're telling me that there's some great evil coming for us, and I can't even trust my own Clanmates!"_

_Graywing bowed her head. "No, Blackmoon, you're right. I was never as loyal to the warrior code as I should have been. I betrayed my station by taking a mate, and ruined Lightstar's leadership. He died because of me."_

_Blackmoon blinked at her. "What?"_

_She raised her head slightly, then turned. "The ceremony is almost over. I'm sorry there's nothing else I can tell you, Blackmoon. Perhaps you should ask someone else about Lightstar's death." Her expression suggested greater meaning behind her words, but Blackmoon was too consumed with worry to understand. She flicked her tail, and began padding back towards the gathered cats. Blackmoon followed her, struggling to erase the worry from his face; he couldn't let Stoneheart see it. _

_Russetstar was speaking as they approached. "With your ninth life, the ceremony is completed. We, StarClan, recognize you as Stonestar, leader of PeakClan!"_

_The starry cats began to chant. "Stonestar! Stonestar! Stonestar!"_

_Blackmoon joined them, yowling his leader's name loudly. Stonestar turned towards him, and it seemed to the black tom that there was new wisdom gleaming in his amber eyes._

_With that, the starry cats stepped away, padding back into the mist. Graywing glanced at Blackmoon, worry in her eyes._

"_Be careful," she mewed, before following them._

_Blackmoon watched as they disappeared from sight. Stonestar turned towards him._

"_What now?" he asked. As he spoke, the dream around them shattered into a million glittering shards._

. . .

Blackmoon blinked slowly, coming back around. He glanced at Stonestar, who was already on his paws. Blackmoon rose, shaking the water from his paws as he padded towards the dry stone.

"All went well, I take it?" he asked. Stonestar gave him a small nod.

"I saw things," he meowed, "things I've never seen before…it was…amazing."

Blackmoon smiled. "I'm the only one that can hear about those things though, remember. You can't talk about that to anyone else."

"I know. What did Graywing say to you, though? I assume you're allowed to speak too?"

"I am…but sometimes it's best for medicine cats to keep things to themselves," he said cautiously. "I can tell you that Graywing warned me, though. Something is coming, something very bad. A great battle…."

Stonestar frowned. "Do you think it has something to do with the prisoners? Their friends coming to rescue them?"

Blackmoon's stomach churned at the thought of what he had done, but he shook his head. "No. A pawful of rogues don't sound as much of a threat as Graywing was expecting to come. It's something very powerful, something we need to prepare for."

Stonestar's ear flicked with irritation. "How can we prepare for what we don't know is coming?"

Blackmoon swallowed, somewhat nervously. "Stonestar…you're a good cat, loyal to the warrior code. I'm sure you can see the problems within our Clan, can't you? Lightstar and Graywing were allowed to be mates with little protest from the Clans, Rosedapple is practically exiled from the Clan,Dapplefern treated Rabbitpaw callously, our naming practices border on ridiculous, such as my own name…we barely send out any patrols, feeling secure in our own numbers. Our apprentices are poorly trained, poorly prepared for real battle because we haven't faced any real threat for generations. We have no plans if something did happen to us – what if there was a fire? A flood? An invasion such as what we might be facing now? We don't know how to cope with anything. We aren't ready for anything. StarClan sees this, they know it, but they can't make decisions for us; they cannot interfere with our free will. Only cats like yourself can make that change."

Stonestar stared at him, and for a moment Blackmoon feared that he had made a real mistake. Then, Stonestar sighed.

"I frowned on Lightstar's…relations with Graywing. I know the Clan's treatment of Rosedapple was wrong, after everything she's been through…you make good points, certainly. But our Clan has been set in its ways for so long…ever since we named ourselves, practically. I just don't know what we could possibly do to fix this. I don't know how we can persuade these cats, who are so in love with their lifestyle, to change."

Blackmoon's blue eyes flashed. "We must find a way. Now, before whatever is coming hits us like a mighty wave, and destroys us. We have to be able to stand up to whatever is coming."

Stonestar nodded slowly. "Yes. Perhaps StarClan has more wisdom for you on this matter?" He flicked his ear towards the Pool of Stars. Blackmoon hesitated, then shook his head.

"We've been waiting for StarClan to tell us what we're doing is wrong for too long. We have to take things into our own paws now."

. . .

As they padded towards camp, Blackmoon was filled with uneasiness. By now, Forest, Frostfeather, and Silverstreak would have completely disappeared with the sinking moon. The Clan would know of their absence. Would they blame him? And if they did, if his treachery was found out, would Stonestar's faith in him falter? Stonestar might disregard all that they had established this night. All might be lost for PeakClan.

Luckily, Stonestar was ahead of him, and there was no space enough for Stonestar to turn and see Blackmoon's worried expression, which grew as they entered the forest of the Peak.

"Stoneheart!" Sandpelt raced towards them, and Blackmoon steeled himself.

"Stonestar, now," the gray tom meowed, before frowning. "What's wrong? Is Rabbitpaw alright?"

Sandpelt blinked, confused for a moment, as if he had just remembered Rabbitpaw's injuries. "Er, no. I mean yes she's alright, but this isn't about her…the prisoners have escaped!"

Stonestar's amber eyes widened. "What? Where are they?"

Sandpelt shook his head. "We haven't found any sign of them. It appears that the tom and she-cat didn't leave together; we followed her scent through the forest, it appears she made it off of the Peak during the ceremony. But we still don't know where the tom is, or even how he got away with his injury. We think he might have even had help!"

Stonestar's gaze was troubled. "He cannot climb down easily. Place guards at the entrance to the path down; we must ensure he doesn't get away, if we can't get the she-cat back. I want organized searches of the Peak; there isn't much ground to cover, we'll find him quickly."

Blackmoon's heart sank. _They'll find Silverstreak, too, _he thought anxiously. _She won't tell them, of course…but…._

"Any idea how he managed to get out of camp? How either of them did?"

Sandpelt shook his head. "We aren't sure. It must have been when no-one was around…or distracted…probably during the deputy ceremony or vigil. We don't know for sure. Obviously when Blackmoon wasn't around, or he would have seen something."

Stonestar glanced at him. "You didn't, did you?"

Hating himself for lying, Blackmoon shook his head mutely.

"We'll find them, soon," Stonestar growled. "They can't hide for long, there isn't enough room for that tom plus any help he might have received. Come on, we should go back to camp and reassure everyone."

Sandpelt nodded, leading the way back to camp. Blackmoon trailed behind the two of them, dimly hearing quiet strategies being discussed between them. Inside, he felt as if he was being eaten up with worry. _If anyone saw something, they would have said it...unless they had a reason to keep it to themselves? Graywing mentioned a traitor that might be lurking in the Clan…it's obvious I may not be able to trust them, if they can't even trust me, their medicine cat!_

Worried eyes greeted Stonestar as he strode into camp. He immediately summoned the Clan, reassuring them with his soothing voice, explaining their new plan. Throughout it all, Blackmoon's tail lashed as his gaze darted from cat to cat, looking for any sort of condemning in their eyes. Then, his heart sank as he saw Rosedapple and Northstar sitting together; was it just him, or were their pelts touching? Was there a certain comfort in her blue gaze as she glanced at her white guardian?

_It doesn't matter, _he thought fiercely. _I'm…I'm a medicine cat. I won't be another Graywing, not after what I just said to Stonestar…this Clan must change! I'll only be continuing the corruption if I…._

He had to look away. Northstar's golden eyes burned in his mind, and he remembered Graywing's warning, that he needed to speak to someone about Lightstar's death.

_Northstar was there, _he thought. _Could…could he have pushed Lightstar? Could he be the traitor after all?_

His eyes widened slightly, but he stared at his paws resolutely, looking up only when he realized that Stonestar had stopped speaking. The gray tom was heading towards his new den, and Blackmoon rose hesitantly. _I have to ask._

He padded towards Northstar, giving him a warm smile. "Can I speak with you?" he asked, before giving Rosedapple a purr. "Good morning."

She gave him a gentle smile, before nudging Northstar with her shoulder. "I'm going back to feed the kits. Bring me some fresh-kill when you finish, will you?"

The stony white tom nodded, and she slipped away. Northstar rose into his paws. "Yes?"

"I'd like to speak…outside of camp," Blackmoon said softly. Looking impassive, Northstar nodded. Leading the large tom to the back of camp, Blackmoon slipped into the forest. Northstar was on his tail, then at his side, taking long, powerful strides. His muscles rippled impressively under his pelt, and Blackmoon felt a chill; Northstar would have had no problem pushing the enfeebled Lightstar off of the cliff…or killing someone in cold blood, if he needed to.

"Is this about Lightstar?" Northstar asked bluntly as the camp disappeared behind them. Blackmoon blinked, then nodded.

"When you came running into camp, you said Lightstar fell. Everything was too shocking to question you further, but…I'd like to know what happened."

Northstar's golden eyes were emotionless, but Blackmoon felt certain that he knew what was being implied.

"I went to see Lightstar about Rabbitpaw, asking when he would do the ceremony to allow Rabbitpaw to become my apprentice," Northstar growled, "but he was gone. It was early, most of the cats were asleep. I followed Lightstar's scent out of camp, to the cliff. I was worried about what he was doing; we both know he was in a delicate state of mind. I was running, when I spotted him near the cliff, but I slowed down because I felt something was wrong. I approached him cautiously, but it was obvious he was ready to jump. He was talking, apparently to Graywing, claiming that Rabbitpaw's accident was a sign from StarClan telling him he should fall too, and join Graywing in StarClan. He seemed to think it would kill him without the possibility of coming back." His eyes narrowed. "He was too young to have run through nine lives so quickly."

Blackmoon's tail lashed. "That's none of your business, Northstar. What happened next?"

"I pointed out that we didn't even know when Rabbitpaw fell; it could have been before or after Graywing died, we don't know for sure when she went missing. He didn't listen. I approached him slowly, hoping I could get close enough to grab him, but before I reached him…he jumped. I shouted his name, but when I looked over the edge, it was obvious that he was dead. So I went back to camp to find you. What is this about?" Northstar's voice was a growl, but Blackmoon wasn't paying attention. He was staring into the forest without really looking at anything, his tail lashing. When he returned his gaze to Northstar's hard eyes, he was shaken to realize that he wasn't sure whether or not he believed Northstar's story.

"You think I did it." Northstar's voice was flat; it wasn't a question. "You think I talked him into it, or pushed him, or something."

Blackmoon swallowed. "I have my doubts."

"Funny." There was no humor in his voice. "You're the last cat I would trust when it came to uncertain loyalties."

Blackmoon's eyes widened. "W-what do you mean?"

"Perhaps the rest of PeakClan is soft, lazy, and blind," Northstar growled, "but I came from the mountains, where kits were blessed to survive their first moons. My mother killed herself and my two brothers; I nearly died as well. You don't live through a life like mine without being the best; the strongest, the smartest, the most observant. I saw you, Blackmoon. You hesitated just a second too long before entering your den. Something was in there, something that surprised you. Who was it? Silverstreak?"

Blackmoon was shaken. "H-how did you…?"

A dark smile was curling Northstar's muzzle. "We have a history, her and I…that white she-cat, too."

Blackmoon's eyes narrowed. "And Forest as well?" At this, Northstar stiffened. "You know I was the only one who heard his little comment; 'Remember me?'. But I didn't breathe a word, Northstar, not to anyone! I kept it a secret, didn't even ask you about it, because I trusted you!"

Northstar let out a low hiss. "PeakClan shouldn't have trusted you then, huh? Because from what I've heard, that tom never said a word. No one could get anything out of him, not even Rabbitpaw, and you know how she talks. Even Rabbitpaw didn't know his name. But you know it, don't you? You say it so casually. Would I be wrong to assume that you two knew each other?"

Blackmoon's fur was bristling. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"Are you accusing _me?_" Northstar hissed. "It seems like you should look at yourself before you accuse others of misdeeds. I saved Rosedapple's life, remember? Something that you could never do!"

"Leave her out of this!" Blackmoon snarled.

"Why?" Northstar shot back. "Because you can't have her now, is that it? Graywing was barely older than you, I've asked around. You could have gone to the medicine cat first, asked for the position before she got it. But even as a kit you knew it, didn't you? You knew you were going to fall for Rosedapple; she was everything you couldn't have. You were a kit when Lightstar was made deputy, right? Rosedapple was an apprentice then, yes? But even then there was a twinkle in her eye when she looked at him, that handsome deputy, a closeness between them that you envied. You knew you should have become the medicine cat, but even the slightest hope that you could have her was too much for you. You hung back, let Graywing take your position, and by doing so you broke Rosedapple's heart. Lightstar would never have been so close to Graywing if she wasn't the medicine cat; medicine cats have a bond with their leader, secrets they tell to no one else. And your own heart broke as Rosedapple fell apart, but you were secretly happy, weren't you? This was your chance to get her for yourself, to love her as Lightstar hadn't! And then, Graywing died and you become medicine cat, while Rosedapple plotted to kill herself…it's no wonder your loyalties have slid out of your own control!" Northstar was in his face now, golden eyes glowing. "Once again, StarClan has stepped between you two! You can't have her now without turning your back on the Clan again, forsaking them of the medicine cat they so desperately need. That is why you let Forest go; you're half-hoping the Clan will find out, that you'll be discredited so that no one will even blink as you become Rosedapple's mate, father of her kits. The cycle that PeakClan started moons ago will repeat itself, with one broken medicine cat after another!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Blackmoon snarled. "You have no idea how it feels, to love someone you can't have, to watch as they fall to pieces, to think you have a chance…and then to see it fall apart right in front of your eyes as you watch another friend die! You have no idea!"

The anger in Northstar's eyes seemed to dim. "I know more than you think," he growled finally, turning away.

Blackmoon realized he was panting, although from what emotion he wasn't sure. Everything felt so tangled, so snarled up inside of him…he didn't know what he thought, what he wanted, what he was going to do about anything.

Looking away from Northstar, he took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I shouldn't have accused you."

"You should have," Northstar growled. "Only by addressing my supposed treachery could you expose your own to someone. That's what you need; you need someone else to know, feel as though someone else understands. After all, if I don't turn you in now, then I sympathize with you, don't I?"

Northstar pushed himself forward, so that he was nose-to-nose with Blackmoon. "I don't sympathize for you; don't think for a single second that I do," he growled. "I know you are obviously the one who healed Forest; you're the only reason he's alive. By now, you know I'm the one who nearly killed him. I should have. PeakClan won't frown upon me for taking down a rogue on their territory…but they'll hate you for letting him go."

"So what are you going to do? Tell Stonestar?" Blackmoon asked, feeling breathless.

Northstar held his gaze for a moment, before moving back. "No. I won't. It would push Rosedapple even further, to see her closest friend be branded as a traitor, perhaps even exiled. She's been pushed too far already by your twisted decisions. I won't let you hurt her again." There was a small sound, and glancing down, Blackmoon saw that Northstar's claws were unsheathed. "But don't for a second think that there is any chance of you being with her. PeakClan cannot handle your betrayal any more than Rosedapple can. For once, put the Clan before yourself. Do what is right for them, not what is right by you. Too many medicine cats have been selfish; if it doesn't end here, it might never end at all."

Blackmoon stared down at Northstar's claws, imagining them dripping with blood – his, Forest's, Lightstar's, he didn't know – and swallowed.

Northstar sheathed his claws, his face impassive and devoid of emotion once more. "Go on, then. Run on back to camp, bring Rosedapple her meal. Cuddle up to her, comfort her, do what you want. But don't make the mistake of taking it too far. I'm not going to let that happen."

Blackmoon's ears flattened. "Who are you protecting, Northstar?" he asked. "PeakClan…or Rosedapple?"

Northstar didn't answer. Instead, Blackmoon watched as the white tom padded away, disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

. . .

He sat in his den, staring at the wall. Thoughts buzzed in his mind, like flies over a carcass. What was he supposed to do? Who was he really loyal to? Was it as Northstar had said; he wasn't loyal to anyone but himself, using StarClan's orders as an excuse to be that much closer to becoming more than just friends with Rosedapple?

He lowered his head onto his paws. There was more truth – a lot more – in Northstar's angry words than he would care to admit to himself.

"Blackmoon?"

Rabbitpaw's groggy voice made him jump. He turned towards her, giving her a smile with warmth that he did not feel. "Yes?"

"What happened?" Rabbitpaw asked. "Everyone was running around last night…Sandpelt was in here looking for something…and that tom's gone. Where did he go? Did they move him?"

Blackmoon's ears flattened; it was the last thing he wanted to think about. "The tom and the she-cat both escaped last night," he said quietly. She blinked at him, and licked her whiskers.

"Oh." She stared out of the entrance of the den, then smiled. "I'm kinda glad, I guess…I mean, I don't like that there are rogues in our territory," she said quickly, as if he might get the wrong idea, "but he didn't seem so bad. Sometimes I would wake up and find him staring at me when he thought I was still asleep; I'd crack an eye open and watch him. He always looked scared of me, or nervous. But he was relaxed around you, huh? Especially after you fixed up his leg so nicely." She beamed at him, her face lit with simple, naïve joy. "You're a good medicine cat, Blackmoon, to get a jumpy rogue like that to trust you."

Blackmoon's fur prickled uncomfortably, and he glanced away from her. "I suppose."

"Northstar hasn't been here to see me, has me?"

Blackmoon flinched at the thought of Northstar's burning eyes. "No. Everyone's busy looking for the rogues, Northstar included."

A loud yowl made him jump again, and he padded to the entrance quickly. Foxclaw was dragging an unconscious Fawncloud into camp. Blackmoon was at her side immediately, checking her over.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"Fawncloud was supposed to guard the path down the Peak," Foxclaw growled. "I was with her, I just popped off for a minute to hunt…when I came back she was like this, lying down. Is she okay?"

Blackmoon swept his paws over her fur, gaining no reaction from Fawncloud. "She's out cold, but she seems to be unharmed, except…." He touched the back of her head gently; a knot was already beginning to form. "It appears she was surprised, hit on the back of the head and knocked out."

"The rogues," Foxclaw spat, his eyes burning. "I'll kill them!"

"They could have killed her, but they didn't; they don't want to hurt anyone, they just want to get away," Blackmoon meowed. "If I had to guess, I'd say they'll run out of the forest," he lied. "They don't want to confront us, obviously."

"For their sake, they had better leave. Once I get a hold of that tom, walking will be the least of his worries!"

"What happened?" Stonestar's deep rumble made Blackmoon turn.

"The rogues surprised Fawncloud," Blackmoon answered, "but she'll be fine when she comes back around. It's nothing serious, she'll just need a bit of rest and a poppy seed for the pain."

Stonestar's eyes narrowed. "So that's it, then? They got away?"

"We need more patrols!" Sandpelt exclaimed. "We have to make sure they really leave."

Stonestar and Blackmoon exchanged glances, and he knew the leader was thinking about their conversation from before.

"I agree," Stonestar growled, "we need more patrols, but not only for these rogues. PeakClan has been lax, too secure in our own power. That's what allowed these rogues to live here for so long undetected."

Other warriors were looking nervous – _Probably afraid of having to actually work, _Blackmoon thought bitterly – but several were nodding.

"I want a patrol out right now," Stonestar ordered. "Rainwind, take Mousepaw and lead the patrol. Bring Smallfire and Hawkpaw with you; survey the other side of the river, including their old camps. They might have returned."

He turned to several other warriors. "Blazingfoot, take Volepaw and Icepaw, look through this side of the river, we can't be too careful."

Blazingfoot, a tabby tom with a white blaze on his chest, dipped his head and turned to his apprentice. Volepaw dashed off to find Icepaw, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"I should be with Icepaw, I'm her mentor," Foxclaw growled.

"Fawncloud will want you with her when she wakes up," Blackmoon mewed. "Come on, help me move her to the medicine den, she can rest there."

Foxclaw looked unhappy, but he grabbed Fawncloud by her scruff, dragging her carefully towards the medicine den. Glancing at Stonestar, Blackmoon saw the troubled look in his leader's eyes.

"Making so many cats work hard is the first step," Blackmoon said quietly, before brushing past him, heading into his den.

He gave Fawncloud some moss to lie on, and told Foxclaw to give her a poppy seed when she awoke, before leaving his den. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he wasn't surprised to find his paws leading him down the path by the Peak. He opened his mouth, collecting the scents of both patrols, before following Rainwind's over the river. There they parted ways, as he forged his own path through the quiet forest. Several birds flitted through the trees, but not much more; the smart prey was hiding underground. Hating his aimlessness, he stopped to collect a few leaves of borage, although he knew no cat was expecting kits. Staring down at the pile of leaves that he had collected, he sighed, then raised his eyes to the skies, searching for the stars in the blueness.

_StarClan, help me, _he prayed. _Light my path for me…because I don't know what path I'm headed down. Give me the strength to be loyal to my Clan, to be the medicine cat they so dearly need. Give me the strength…to let Rosedapple go._

**AN: Lemme guess, you guys were thinking that Blackmoon was calm? Well-adjusted? Stable? You guys should really know better by now…no one's unbroken in some form or fashion.**

**Plus, we get to see Northy from a perspective that isn't his own (the silly narcissist) or Silver's (hers is a little warped from the over-powering burning hatred, y'know), so we get a different view of him. Different perspectives are my bff. :D**

**Oooh, these reviews are gonna be interesting. I can feel it. Updated the blog, too, loves!**


	29. C h a p t e r 28

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**28**

"Are you alright?" Silverstreak asked anxiously. "Should we rest?"

"I'm fine," Forest growled, but the way he was gritting his teeth, she knew he was lying. Glancing over her shoulder towards the Peak, she sighed.

"There's no one following us, and we're over the river. We can rest for a few minutes before we continue."

"I told you, I'm not tired!" Forest snapped. She blinked at him, hurt by his tone, and his green eyes gentled.

"I'm not going to let you be captured because of me, okay? We'll keep going until we get there, it can't be that far. I'm strong enough for this, honestly."

He gave her a small smile, before taking a step forward. She moved quickly to support him, and they continued into the forest.

"There," she said quickly, flicking her tail towards a bush. He blinked with surprise.

"I don't even scent anything," he meowed. "Are you sure it's the right one?"

She nodded. "They're probably using the mud again, I'd expect. Come on." She led him to the bush, pushing the leaves away gently with her side and ushering him down, before following.

Upon entering, she was nearly knocked over by a sleek silver streak of fur. She blinked down, to find Shimmer blinking up at her solemnly.

"Glad you back," she mewed seriously.

"Silverstreak!" Reedrush and Frostfeather exclaimed in unison.

"Really, I'm fine, don't worry," Forest joked. Frostfeather shot him an amused glance.

"Everything went okay?" Reedrush asked anxiously. "Frostfeather told us that you made it out of camp, but were stuck on the Peak!"

Silverstreak nodded, touching Shimmer's fur gently with her tail. "We were stuck for the night, yeah, but it wasn't so bad. They posted guards on the way down the Peak, though. I, er, knocked her out." She frowned, feeling a prickle of unease; she and Forest had crouched in waiting, thinking to escape when the guards changed, only to be happily surprised when the ginger tom had left his place to hunt. While watching, she had seen that the golden she-cat was a kind soul, and only doing her duty for the Clan.

_Did I hit her too hard? _She thought, feeling anxiety clench her belly.

"They'll be after us soon, I expect," Forest meowed, laying down with a slight sigh. "  
But I doubt they'll be able to find us here."

"We caught some fresh prey, in case things were bad," Reedrush said, and Frostfeather nodded. "They're buried nearby."

She purred, heartened by their quick-thinking. "That's great! But we shouldn't dip into it if things aren't so bad at first…only when we really need it." She rose to her paws. "I want to see if they've sent anyone down yet, okay? I might catch something while I'm at it. It's pretty early still, their new leader is probably just getting home, but it can't hurt."

"I'll come with you," Frostfeather offered, but Silverstreak shook her head.

"If something happens, I can just run off; you've got kits to feed. I'll be back soon, don't worry; you know how careful I am."

"Careful like kidnapping a cripple in broad moonlight?" Frostfeather asked wryly, glancing at Forest. "No offense."

He gave her a little shrug, and she smiled at him, a slight gleam in her eyes. Silverstreak recognized that look, and she looked away quickly, her fur prickling uncomfortably. "I'll be back," she said, turning away.

. . .

She headed to the river first, making sure to cover herself in mud. From here, she could almost see their old camp, where she and Forest had been together for so long. For some reason, the thought of those days made her sad, and she averted her gaze, making sure to get behind her ears with the mud. She flicked her ears clean of excess mud, before turning her head to make sure she got everything.

A scent reached her with a jolt, and her eyes widened. Before she even had time to think, her instincts were propelling her up the nearest tree, a large ash. She crouched, looking for the source of the scent. Her eyes narrowed as she found it; a large patrol headed by an oddly familiar-looking tom. She frowned, before her eyes widened as she remembered her face from her little jump in the river during the storm.

_Rainwind, _she thought, and looked for his apprentice; it wasn't hard to spot his dusty-golden coat. She found that she was smiling as she watched them; after all, they had been kind enough to feel some sort of concern for her, even though they didn't know her. They were good cats, even if they came from PeakClan.

She didn't recognize any of the others, however, and watched anxiously as the patrol continued; without the foliage of newleaf, it was easy to track their progress. She knew they were heading towards the old camp; from there, they'd either continue along the river, or go back to the other camp where they had captured Forest and Frostfeather. She let out a soft breath of relief, knowing that they would find nothing no matter how hard they looked, before her ears swiveled to pick up forest noise. After all, she was here to hunt, and now she knew exactly where the patrol was going. Things looked good.

Springing down from the ash as soon as the patrol was out of sight, she opened her mouth to catch the scent of prey. Her eyes narrowed as her keen ears zoomed in on the sound of claws against leaves.

Creeping forward, she licked her whiskers as she spotted the tiny mouse, scrabbling against the leaves, not realizing the noise he was making for her excellent ears. Smiling, she crept forward, making sure not to even brush the ground, lest she alert the mouse. She froze as his tiny ear twitched and he paused in his scrabbling. His shiny black eyes darted towards her, but she didn't move and he returned his attention to his leaves. Smirking just slightly at his ignorance of imminent death, she coiled her muscles, preparing to spring.

Without warning, a bird burst from a nearby bush. Silverstreak and the mouse both jumped with surprise, and Silverstreak watched as the mouse scampered away. Glancing towards the bush, she sniffed it curiously. _Something had to make the bird flee, right? _She thought. Springing into the closest tree, she looked down, searching for the cause of the bird's flight. Opening her mouth, her ears flattened as she scented the familiar smell of PeakClan.

_The patrol already went through here; are they so incompetent that they sent two patrols over the same area in less than an hour?_

Then, she realized there was a strangeness to the scent; it carried the smell of dried leaves with it, and scents of the forest plants.

_Medicine cat, _she realized, then blinked. _Blackmoon!_

Did she dare go to greet him? It was true that he had probably saved her life, by allowing her to escape, and he had saved Forest's life much earlier than that. But was it possible that he was having doubts? She knew he was very attached to his Clan before, and now that he had become medicine cat…surely he was under great pressure.

But still, she owed him at least a thank-you, didn't she? An apology for still being there, putting him in this position in the first place?

Springing down from the tree, she followed the scent cautiously, creeping forward as if she was still stalking her mouse. She paused, spotting his familiar black coat. It looked as if he was staring up at the sky, although she couldn't see what he was looking for. Between his paws, he had collected a bunch of leaves. Cautiously, she stood.

"Blackmoon?"

He turned quickly, and emotions flashed through his blue eyes, so quickly she couldn't read them. He glanced her up and down, then looked away.

"You're angry," Silverstreak mewed, taking a step forward. "I'm sorry, Blackmoon, really. I would have told you what we were doing, but…I was afraid you'd tell PeakClan."

"And you think I won't now? You think I'll betray my Clan by letting you hide?" His voice was sharp, pained.

"N-no, that's not what I meant," she stammered. "I know you're angry, I'm sorry. Believe me, if we could leave you and your Clan in peace, we would. I mean, I hope we can still be peaceful, but we can't leave. StarClan told me that this was where I have to build a new Clan." She hesitated. "It's kind of a long story, if you want to hear it…."

"I don't."

Her tail twitched; this wasn't how she had thought that things would go. "I'm sorry—"

He interrupted her. "So you're never leaving? You're intent upon creating a Clan?"

She nodded, and his eyes narrowed. He stared down at his paws, looking at the clump of leaves. Then, he rose to his paws, moving towards her. She watched him uncertainly, turning as he moved past her, plucking a leaf from the bush behind her. Craning her neck, she watched him; he appeared to be thinking.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. She blinked at him.

"What—" Her voice broke off as Blackmoon sprang forward suddenly, his outstretched paws hitting her in the back. Her face hit the ground, earth crumbling in her mouth as she let out a cry of shock.

"I'm not a traitor to my Clan," Blackmoon hissed into her ear. "I'm truly sorry about this, Silverstreak…but I cannot allow my Clan to be torn apart by this…or anything else." The words seemed almost more to himself than her, but she didn't have time to dwell. She struggled, but he had her pinned down firmly, his mouth against the back of her neck; one wrong move and she'd find herself bleeding out on the ground. Yowling for help flitted into her mind for a brief moment, but she pushed it away. _I can't let everyone be captured too, _she thought.

Blackmoon suddenly let out a yowling call, sending Silverstreak's ears ringing. There was a brief pause, before he yowled again, calling for the patrol. Taking advantage of the movement, Silverstreak raised her head, struggling to see past the dark earth.

"Don't move," Blackmoon warned. "I don't want to hurt you."

She spat, letting out an angry hiss. "Northstar has no such qualms!"

Blackmoon's blue eyes hardened. "Stonestar won't let anything happen to you if you cooperate. We just want you to leave." His gaze softened slightly. "I'll let you go if you just say you'll leave. Please…I'm not completely sure I can protect you from Northstar. He's stronger than I thought."

"He killed your leader!" she snarled.

"Lightstar jumped," Blackmoon said calmly. "He told me."

"You believed that liar?" she demanded, flailing with her paws, to no avail.

"It makes sense; even if Northstar wanted to be leader, killing Lightstar wouldn't help him. He hadn't mentored an apprentice, he couldn't be deputy; now he just has another leader with nine new lives to wait out. It wouldn't make sense for Northstar to kill Lightstar; if he killed Stoneheart once he had mentored an apprentice, he could have taken advantage of Lightstar's weakness and ruled without having to be leader at all, or then killed Lightstar. He didn't kill my leader."

She had nothing to reply with at that moment, but it didn't matter. The gray tom, Rainwind, pushed through the brush, the rest of the patrol filling out behind him.

Rainwind's eyes widened as he saw Silverstreak, and she knew he recognized her, but he was smart enough not to say so. "Is that one of the rogues?"

"Their leader," Blackmoon informed him. He flicked his tail, and the patrol moved forward, creating a wall of cats behind her. Blackmoon stepped back, allowing her to rise to her paws, but she knew she didn't have a hope of escaping so many cats.

"My name is Silverstreak, and I'm no rogue," she said defiantly, raising her chin. Her blue eyes flashed at Blackmoon, who at least had the shame to look away. "StarClan sent me here."

A small ginger-and-white tom let out a snort. "StarClan sent a bunch of rogues to settle in PeakClan territory?"

"We aren't rogues!" she hissed. "We're Clan cats, just like you! I come from the same place as Northstar!"

At this, the cats looked unsettled, glancing at one another.

"Were you in the same Clan?" a brown apprentice asked eagerly, but the ginger-and-white tom pushed him with his shoulder.

"Don't say anything else, Hawkpaw," he ordered. "Stonestar will want to see her right away. And Northstar will too, I'm sure."

"Smallfire, Hawkpaw, keep to the rear please," Blackmoon mewed. "Rainwind and Mousepaw will be on either side, I'll head the front."

The cats began spreading out, but Silverstreak didn't move until Rainwind pushed her with his shoulder, forcing her forward. Sending a look dripping with venom at Blackmoon as he moved to the front, she trailed after him, keeping her head high. Inside, she felt as if she was about to collapse at the mere thought of coming nose-to-nose with Northstar, but she would not allow these cats to see that.

They kept keen eyes on her the entire way, keeping close as they walked single-file up the Peak's path. She could feel her legs trembling slightly as the scent of camp drifted down to her, but she steeled herself, clenching her jaw.

She felt the Clan ripple with shock as she strode into their camp. At first, Northstar was nowhere to be seen, but he appeared in the entrance of the nursery. Her lip curled with hatred as her blue eyes met his hot yellow gaze, and she could see him forcibly stopping himself from lunging forward, probably to claw her throat.

"Who is this?"

She turned, recognizing the deep, soothing voice. The gray tom from the deputy ceremony was standing there in front of her: Stonestar.

Blackmoon opened his mouth, but she pushed past him. "My name is Silverstreak," she growled, meeting Stonestar's gaze firmly. "StarClan sent me here."

A blink was the only sign from the leader than she had surprised him. "In my den," he ordered.

"Shouldn't we put her in the prisoner den?" Smallfire asked, but Stonestar silenced him with a glance.

Hope fluttered in her chest. Was it possible that he would listen to reason? Could she save her budding Clan after all?

"Stonestar!" Northstar's voice shattered her delusions as the tom stormed forward. "Stonestar, I must ask that you do not let this she-cat out of anyone's sight! You do not know what I know about her."

Stonestar turned towards him slowly. "Yes, Northstar? What is it that you know?"

"We share a past," Northstar growled. "She is the cause of my exile in my home Clan."

Silverstreak's eyes widened at his words; anger rose inside of her and she opened her mouth to argue, but Northstar continued,

"She betrayed me, Stonestar. She spread lies about me through my Clan, undermined my authority. She killed my deputy, seeking the position for herself. She aligned herself with rogues, rogues that attacked me in the midst of speaking with StarClan! She intimidated my medicine cat into silence, so that he would not speak the truth about me, instead only repeating her lies. She forced my Clan to cast me out so that she could take leadership for herself!" His eyes flashed. "Look at her now! She does not even call herself Silverstar! StarClan did not accept her as they did me. My Clan must have pushed her out when they realized they'd been betrayed."

"I never—" she shouted, but he silenced her with a look; she could feel the Clan's tension building, confusion turning towards ready hatred. They had always been used to hating outsiders; why would they change for her?

"And these rogues she travels with now are the same that she harbored before," he continued, with a glance towards Blackmoon. "Our medicine cat heard the tom prisoner say something to me; something that I asked him not to share. I did not realize the danger the rogues held at the time. But you should all know now, now that we have their leader in our midst. He asked if I remembered him. Those injuries you saw were the ones that I gave him."

Several cats looked surprised; others intrigued. Silverstreak's stomach was plunging as she realized where he was going, but there was nothing she could do to stand in his way. Who would they trust? The word of a rogue they already hated, or the powerful tom who had already saved one of their queens?

"I stumbled upon him in the forest, although I did not recognize him at the time. I took it upon myself to rid PeakClan of a dangerous rogue. It appears I did not do my job well enough. But I now know that this tom, Forest, is very close to our dear Silverstreak. They are allies. And they seek to overthrow PeakClan, as they overthrew me."

"We only want to establish our own Clan—"

"Do you think it will turn out any better this time than the last?" Northstar snarled, and this time she knew the words were for her alone, not the rest of the Clan. "Do you think the encroachers will be any more successful than last time?"

To PeakClan, it simply sounded like she and her rouges were the encroachers. But she knew Northstar was talking about her father, and every other forest cat that had invaded FrozenClan's home, stealing their territory.

"I can't let you make the mistake of trusting her," Northstar said more quietly, addressing his leader now. "She is extremely dangerous. I made the same mistake once myself, but never again. Stonestar, if you were to take my advice, you would hold her until her rogue friends come forward and attempt to rescue her. Lay a trap for them, capture them. Then…whatever you do is your decision, of course. All that matters is that PeakClan must be safe.

Stonestar was quiet for a moment. Then, he sighed.

"I must speak of this with Sandpelt and Blackmoon," he said finally, flicking his tail. "Come with me. Rainwind, place her in the prisoner's den for now."

Her heart sank into her paws as she saw Northstar's eyes flash, he knew he had already won. Numbly, she followed Rainwind into the den.

It still smelled of Frostfeather, bringing a pang of loneliness with it. Rainwind left with a nervous glance, probably thinking that the wily Silverstreak might rat him out after all. She watched him go, and turned to face the wall.

She let out a gentle sigh, almost a moan. _I'm an idiot, _she berated herself. _We had food, we were safe! I should have never even left the den…now I'm the one who has been captured. I'm the one stuck here, with Frostfeather and Forest on the outside. What am I supposed to do now? What can I do, really? I can't stop them from coming to help me, I can't stop them from bumbling into the trap….There isn't going to be a dead leader to save them._

_I can't just sit here. But what can I do? Northstar has them, like clay in his paws. They'll believe him over me easily. He's probably talking to them right down, dripping lies from his flea-bitten mouth…he knows Frostfeather and Ravenwing are with me, probably Eaglestrike too; he can give their names to add credence to his story, to prove that he really does know them. _

_His story even makes sense to Blackmoon, doesn't it? He thinks I deceived him – which I did, I suppose – in order to gain power for myself and destroy Northstar. He probably thinks that the only reason I'm even here is because I followed Northstar, to take some sort of twisted revenge for my own destroyed rule! They'll never ally with us now._

Her ears pricked as a shadow fell over the den. Rainwind was standing there, staring down at her.

"Stonestar's ready to decide," he said quietly. "Come with me."

She rose to her paws, following him. "I'm not going to say anything about our meeting, if that's what you're wondering," she whispered as she brushed past him. "It's none of his business."

Relief flashed over his face, followed by wariness; he was obviously sizing up her motives for secrecy. She glanced at him, but had nothing to say; why he thought she changed her mind didn't matter. Stonestar's opinion was the only one that mattered, and she was sure that she already knew it.

Stonestar was sitting in the center of camp, watching her. She sat down, facing him calmly.

"What Northstar has told us is worrying," Stonestar said slowly, "but it only adds to our already-existing problem. We cannot let any cats, rogue or Clanborn, stake a claim on our territory. I understand that we have been lax on security; that is the reason you were here so long undetected. But I assure you that under my rule, we will not make those mistakes. Silverstreak, you are our prisoner. We will capture your allies. And once we have you all, we will decide what to do with you."

Silverstreak's ears flattened. "Please, let me explain; I can give you a good reason for everything. I can tell you that—"

Stonestar held up his tail. "You lurked in our territory for at least a moon. One of your cats was in a battle with one of ours. You never once attempted to make contact with us. If you had, perhaps I would have been inclined to listen to you now. If StarClan sent you, that is unfortunate; apparently you are not the cat they should have picked, if you thought that running around in the shadows and leeching off of our resources was the way to build a Clan of your own. If what Northstar said is true, then I can see why your rule collapsed."

He flicked his tail. "Send her back to the prisoner den."

Rainwind nodded, and began gently pushing Silverstreak towards the den, but Stonestar was still speaking, and Silverstreak craned her neck to listen.

"I want another patrol going by where we captured her tomorrow," he continued, "following the path that Rainwind's patrol took. Speak of her capture as much as you can, but be discreet. By tomorrow, I want every bird in the forest singing of her capture and every squirrel chattering about it, understand? We must flush them out."

Silverstreak's shoulders slumped in defeat. There was no way her friends could resist the news of her capture; they would rescue her immediately, and find themselves captured. It was only a matter of time.

. . .

She did not sleep that night; instead she stared at the entrance of the den, imagining Northstar every time she closed her eyes. She could hear breathing outside of her den and knew a cat was on guard, but who would stop Northstar if he wanted to speak with her?

Her mind was kept awake by other things as well; thinking of her friends, for one. By now they knew she wasn't coming back. Where they already planning to get her? Did they have any idea of what awaited them in PeakClan's camp?

_Stonestar was right, _she thought miserably. _I was too caught up in everything else to realize that perhaps I should have simply spoke with them. Lightstar might have attempted to hurt us…but he would have died, and Stonestar would have listened; he's obviously more sensible. If I had at least appeared to want some sort of partnership, rather than skulking around in the shadows of the forest….Was he right in doubting StarClan's wisdom for choosing me, of all cats, to rebuild this Clan? Father has faith in me, but perhaps it was misplaced…._

The thoughts kept her awake until she was greeted by the soft colors of dawn. Although she was desperately tired, she forced herself to keep awake, to listen as the Clan began to stir. Her claws clenched the dirt as she heard the sounds of the first patrol leaving, knowing they would be spreading the news until 'every bird in the forest was singing of her capture'.

And so, she waited, listening to the sounds of the Clan going about its life, listening to mentors admonishing apprentices, cats sharing tongues, and the squeaking of nearby kits tumbling over each other in play. Anxiety slashed at her stomach with sharp claws, but there was nothing she could do to relieve it, not until she knew for sure whether or not her friends were coming.

But as the first day, and the second day, and the third day dragged on, she was forced to confront another thought: What if her friends didn't come after her at all?


	30. C h a p t e r 29: Reedrush

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**29: Reedrush**

Voices brushed the edge of Reedrush's sleepy mind. Groggily, she poked Blizzardkit with one paw, reprimanding him for speaking so loudly. It took her a moment for her sleepy brain to realize that Blizzardkit _couldn't _speak at all yet, aside from the usual mewls and yelps.

Her eyes shot open, and she stared into the entrance of the den. No one was there, but voices were coming from just outside. Glancing at still-sleeping Frostfeather, she slowly rose to her paws, stifling Blizzardkit's cry of outrage from being poked and losing his heat source with her tail. Silently, she crept forward, crouching near the entrance, struggling to hear the words of the cats outside.

"Blackmoon's stronger than I'd have thought for a medicine cat," one voice remarked, as Reedrush opened her mouth to catch the scent of PeakClan.

"He was a warrior before," another voice reminded him.

"Yes, but his heart was never in that; any cat could see it," the first said.

"He's a good medicine cat, though, fixing Rabbitpaw up like he did!" a third voice, much younger, chirped.

"Still…taking down that rogue was astonishing!" The first voice exclaimed, almost a little too loudly. Reedrush stiffened with shock.

_Is that why Silverstreak didn't come back? Did they capture her? Oh, she said she would run if she found them. Silverstreak..._

"I just hope those other rogues don't come looking for her," the young voice half-bellowed. "We are much too strong for those sad rogues!"

Reedrush frowned at his strange tone, but the patrol of cats was already moving on, continuing on their path. Reedrush turned, seeing Frostfeather's eyes opening sleepily.

"What is it?" the white queen asked groggily. "Did Silverstreak come back?"

Her gaze sharpened at the horror in Reedrush's eyes. "What is it?"

"A patrol of PeakClan cats just came by," Reedrush whispered, with a glance at the den entrance. "I think…I think they captured Silverstreak."

Frostfeather was instantly on her paws, sending Robinkit and Jaykit tumbling. Her green eyes blazed with anger, her white fur bristling. She made a move as if to charge out of the den, only to find Reedrush in her way.

"I'll shred them limb from limb if they hurt her!" Frostfeather spat.

"Keep your voice down!" Reedrush chastened her. "We can't do anything for her if they get us too! We need a plan!"

"Northstar will have had her by now; what if he hurts her? Turns the Clan against her?"

"They're already against us, it can't get much worse. Listen, they'll be waiting for us to rescue her. They're idiots, but they aren't moronic; they know you and Forest were rescued before. They'll be prepared."

At the mention of his name, Forest's eyes opened slowly. "What was that?"

"Those foxdung-faced warriors took Silverstreak!" Frostfeather spat. Forest's eyes widened in alarm, and he moved to rise to his paws before remembering his injury.

"What are we going to do? We can't let them hurt her! Are we going to rescue her?"

"I'm liking you more and more," Frostfeather told him. "Reedrush, you're outvoted. We have to go get her, now!"

"Listen to me!" Reedrush hissed. "For all we know, it's a trap! We have to be smart about this. The only thing we can do is get Eaglestrike's help."

"How are we going to find him?" Frostfeather demanded.

"She has a point; Twolegplace is incredibly large. How can we hope to find him with so many other cats in Twolegplace as well?"

"He meets with Silverstreak every phase of the moon, right? If I went instead of her—"

"That's days away!" Frostfeather exclaimed. "She can't wait that long!"

"What if they hurt her, trying to figure out where we are?" Forest asked.

"It wouldn't do them any good, she'd never tell, and they wouldn't kill her so long as they think they can trap us," Reedrush argued. "The cats I overheard were more concerned about Blackmoon's skills, than any ill-will towards Silverstreak. As long as we're out here, she's a useful tool to bargain with; they can't hurt her if they think we want her. We just have to wait until the half moon in a few days, find Eaglestrike, and he can help us with whatever new cats he's managed to round up."

Frostfeather and Forest both looked skeptical.

"There's nothing either of you could do; Forest isn't strong enough to make it up to the Peak alone. And Frostfeather, you've got your kits to look after."

"You can feed them."

"But I won't, not if you recklessly endanger your life for Silverstreak. I'm worried about her too, but I'm not going to let another member of our group be captured in a fruitless effort to save her." Reedrush's gaze softened. "I might not love her as much as you do, but I care about her. And someone has to watch Shimmer while I look for Eaglestrike."

Frostfeather's ears flattened. "You couldn't refuse to feed my kits. You're too soft for that – not that that's a bad thing. But don't try to intimidate me; I'm at least a year older than you, remember. Treat your elder with some respect." She licked her chest, trying to calm herself down. "Do you really think she can wait that long?"

"StarClan won't let them hurt her," Reedrush mewed, trying to fill her voice with confidence. "My father would never let that happen."

"But still, waiting so long while she's held captive…without any sign that we're coming for her….Isn't that cruel?" Frostfeather asked.

"I'm not going to let her suffer through that," Forest growled, painfully rising to his paws. "I'll get myself captured if I have to. I won't let her be alone."

"You can't make it up there—"

"I'll find a way," he hissed. "I'm not some pathetic invalid that needs cuddling now and then. I was living here for moons before you came; don't treat me like a kit!"

Reedrush's ears flattened. "I'm not trying to, but it honestly won't help anyone if you're captured too."

"Well," Frostfeather said thoughtfully, "I mean, it isn't like he's contributing anything. No offense," she added quickly with a glance in his direction. "You're injured, you can't do much but rest. Silverstreak would like the company. I'll be here with the kits, Reedrush will be running off to find Eaglestrike…it shouldn't take very long for us to be ready to break her out, and it might be better if she had some help from the inside."

Reedrush gaped at her. "You can't be serious? What if they decide to hurt him?"

"Blackmoon didn't let anyone hurt him last time, and Blackmoon's better at this healing stuff than we are," Frostfeather said stubbornly. "It might be for the best."

Forest's shoulders were slumped. "He would only put me in his den again, I suppose...I wouldn't be able to speak to Silverstreak in my condition, even if I made it up the Peak…." He closed his eyes in shame.

Blackmoon's name meant Reedrush's eyes widen. "T-the patrol said…said that Blackmoon was the one who captured her."

Frostfeather stared at her, while Forest gaped in outright shock.

"That traitor!" the white queen hissed, but Forest was shaking his head, eyes full of disbelief.

"I can't believe that he would do that," Forest meowed. "It's thanks to his care that I am even still alive! He allowed Silverstreak and I to escape! How could he capture her now?"

"Maybe he changed his mind?" Reedrush wondered. "It doesn't matter, does it? She's still captured."

"Unless…it was some sort of plan?" Forest guessed. "I cannot believe that Blackmoon would double-cross Silverstreak. Perhaps she was planning this all along and did not tell us because she knew we would object? Perhaps there is some sort of secret plan to all of this?"

Forest was clutching at straws, but Reedrush couldn't force herself to take the hope away from him. "Perhaps," she mewed, but his eyes flashed at her tone.

"Don't patronize me!" he hissed, angry once more. "I'm no fool!"

Frostfeather touched his flank with her tail comfortingly, but he brushed it away. "Blackmoon would never do that to her!" Forest insisted, green eyes burning. Reedrush's ears flattened.

"Look, it doesn't matter. Either way, Silverstreak knows that we would get Eaglestrike's help, so that's what we should do," Reedrush said stubbornly. "We just wait a few days, go get him, round up everyone and then charge in and rescue her!"

Frostfeather and Forest simply stared at her; Reedrush could see the doubt and confusion in their eyes, mixed with pain. She knew they were far closer to Silverstreak than she was, and she felt for them, but surely they had to be rational in this darkest of hours?

"Fine," Frostfeather said finally, her fur falling flat. "Do what you think you must. I'm confined here anyway, it doesn't matter…." There was bitterness in her voice as she stared down at her two squirming kits.

Reedrush nuzzled Frostfeather's shoulder. "Being a mother is hard; I'm younger than you, remember I miss the freedom I had before…but I'd never give Blizzardkit up."

Frostfeather curled around her kits, saying nothing. Forest slowly lowered himself to the ground, wincing slightly.

"And you'll be on your paws in no time," she mewed consoling to the tom.

"Don't patronize me," he snapped, clearly not in the mood to speak with Silverstreak gone.

. . .

The sunhigh and dusk patrol both carried the same news of Silverstreak; by now they knew it had to be a trap. But even that knowledge didn't dampen the feelings of anxiety; Reedrush saw Forest grinding his teeth when he thought no one was paying attention, and Frostfeather paced relentlessly for an hour after either patrol. Reedrush had to excuse herself to hunt for a short time to stop herself from going crazy with them in such close quarters.

Even Shimmer was concerned; her blue eyes grew huge when Reedrush broke the news to her, saying that Silverstreak wasn't coming back. As Reedrush had expected, Shimmer wanted to rescue her, even bolting for the exit and narrowly being caught. It took them nearly an hour to talk her down from mounting an escape mission, and even then she looked mutinous

However, it was obvious that there was nothing for them to do but wait.

And so they did.

The days passed as blurs, fragments of which Reedrush would dimly remember: Blizzardkit trying to coerce Shimmer into playing, Frostfeather pacing anxiously every time a patrol went by with the same news of Silverstreak's capture, despite the mewls of her kits, walking with Forest to curb his restlessness and exercise his leg, watching the pain and exhaustion in his eyes as he struggled to move forward, asif by pushing himself he could somehow help Silverstreak. They were certain it was a trap after a few days, with the patrols continuing to speak of Silverstreak's capture with little else to say. It didn't make them feel any better, but they could at least assume Silverstreak was safe, if the patrol wasn't gleefully shouting about torturing her for information.

The days seem to pass both quickly and slowly; some moments seemed to drag on as long as a Thunderpath, while others raced by as quickly as monsters. A knot of anxiety in her stomach was Reedrush's constant companion. Each night she would look up at the sky, studying the moon, waiting for the night that it would become half-full.

And then, there it was, the moon shining above her head with just the slightest slice missing from being half-full. She felt relieved, realizing that she had been scared that it would somehow never come. She turned towards Frostfeather and Forest.

"Tomorrow," was all she said, but she knew they both understood. Frostfeather stopped her anxious pacing, and Forest lowered his head onto his paws with a soft sigh. Reedrush turned again to look up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle down upon her, before curling around Blizzardkit and easing herself into sleep.

. . .

She was up before dawn, leaving the den without waiting for the others to rise; she wasn't sure she could take their anxious looks, their quiet anger at being so unable to help Silverstreak.

She managed to catch a thrush for herself, filling her growling belly and allowing strength to fill her limbs. With that, she turned her muzzle towards where she knew the Thunderpath lied, and began to walk.

She flinched at every crackle of the dead leaves under her paws, every snap of a twig, thinking that PeakClan was right on her paws. Her neck actually felt sore after a time, because she kept looking over her shoulder, making sure that PeakClan warriors were not in fact pursing her.

The stench of the Thunderpath soon reached her nose, and she flinched at the ferocious speed of the monsters as they tore up their own trails. Jag flitted into her mind for a moment, and she smiled; her heart lightened at the thought of seeing her scarred friend again. She could only hope that he was safe.

Twolegplace loomed above her, gray and gloomy as ever. Feeling a chill, she began walking forward even more carefully; she knew all too well what dangers lurked within the Twolegplace, having lived so close for so many years, until the Twolegs had destroyed the Kalan's home with their Thunderpath.

Where would Eaglestrike be? She knew he was supposed to be somewhere near here, but she wasn't sure as to where he would choose to wait. And what would he think, when he saw her instead of his foster-sister?

Her fur bristled as the smell of the Twolegs and their nests, coupled with the monsters and Thunderpath, threatened to overwhelm her; only the thought of Silverstreak, trapped in some tiny den in PeakClan camp, kept her going.

She paused for a moment, uncertainly, looking around the gray streets hopefully.

"Reedrush!"

The voice made her jump, and she turned, her heart leaping as she recognized the scarred tom padding forward.

"Jag!" she cried, rushing forward to bury her nose in his fur; it was only as she breathed in his familiar scent that she realized how much she had missed him.

Jag was frozen, obviously a little confused by her outburst. She took a step back, blinking at him.

"How did you recognize me? You were behind me, you couldn't see my eyes," she mewed. "Silverstreak and I look a lot alike."

"I know you," he said simply.

"Where's Eaglestrike?"

At this, Jag looked troubled. "Why are you here, instead of Silverstreak?"

"She was captured," Reedrush explained, and quickly filled him in on the details. At this, Jag looked even more worried.

"We needed her," he said softly. Reedrush blinked at him questioningly.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"The last time Silverstreak met with us, I was here with Eaglestrike," he meowed. "Ravenwing was tending to Buck, who was injured. Death was hunting. Buck was injured in a skirmish with a ground of toms who believed that we were threatening their leader's hold on his section of the city. We recently fought the same group again."

Reedrush's eyes widened. "Is Eaglestrike hurt?"

"Yes…but I do not know how badly. It was a fierce battle, during which Buck and Ravenwing were captured. Eaglestrike refused to leave her and was captured also, along with some of our new recruits. I do not know what happened to Death."

She blinked at him. "But what about you? Didn't you stick around to help?"

"You are the cat I care most about; I knew I would be the only one who was able to get away safely," Jag said softly. "I couldn't leave you and Silverstreak wondering what had happened to us."

There was a brief, somewhat awkward pause, before Reedrush's ears flattened. "So Eaglestrike, Ravenwing, and Buck couldn't get away? And Death…disappeared?"

"As far as I know. I'm not sure what happened to Death; he has a good heart and he has improved much in his time here, but he is not of great courage. I do not believe it is likely that he continued to fight once it was obvious the battle was lost. He probably fled to save his own pelt."

It was troubling that one of their own would desert them in battle, but the others being captured was much, much worse.

"We were hoping you guys were going to help us rescue Silverstreak…what are we going to do now? I'm the only one in my group who can help you guys right now."

Jag stared at her for a moment, before turning his eyes towards the Thunderpath. "I do not know."

He was quiet for a moment. "There is one possibility," he said finally. "There are two big bosses in this city. The one who we ran into is named Cane. The other is Amber."

"Amber?" she echoed. "That's not exactly a fierce boss name."

"Amber is a she-cat," he said, and her whiskers twitched with surprise.

"A she-cat boss?" she asked skeptically. "That's unheard of. How did she gain power?"

Jag gave a shrug of his mighty shoulders. "I do not know; perhaps it has something to do with the fact that Cane and Amber are siblings. But they are not close; they have a fierce hatred of each other."

"So perhaps Amber will help us," Reedrush said, catching on quickly. "Where is she? How can we speak to her?"

"We cannot," he answered, "or at least I cannot. Amber is…highly distrustful of toms. All of the toms born in her section of town are put firmly in their place from birth, below the she-cats. They live only to breed, much like how she-cats are usually treated."

"But how is that even possible? Toms are usually much bigger than she-cats, right?"

Jag shrugged again. "I have heard that the toms are taught from when they are very young that the she-cats are superior. Any toms who rebel against this idea are firmly beaten and broken until they do not pose a threat, although they are kept for breeding in hopes of passing on their strength. Amber is a very firm leader, not one to compromise."

"So she won't even talk to you," Reedrush realized, "which means you need me to talk to her instead." Her ears flattened. "I don't know about this, Jag. She sounds dangerous, maybe even crazy."

"She is the only chance we have," Jag said grimly. "I do not think the others will last long under Cane's paw; from what I hear, he is generally a bit lax with his cats, but absolutely ruthless when pressed. We are a threat to him, one that must be crushed. If one of our newer recruits speaks of you and the others in the forest, they will likely be killed as well to prevent any upstarts."

Her ears flattened. "What are we going to do, then? Go back to Frostfeather and tell her everything? She'll want to come, nothing can stop here with all this going on…Ravenwing is her sister, you know. She loves her."

"We cannot tell her," Jag said firmly. "We must not. This must be done quickly, without wasting a day going to them and coming back. It was Silverstreak's expertise in such matters that I was hoping for, but we will simply have to make do."

He flicked his tail and began walking down the street. Reedrush had to hurry to keep up with his long, powerful strides.

"Are we going to find Amber now, then?" she asked, panting slightly. He gave a quick nod but said nothing, causing her to frown at him. "Well, where is she? Where does she live?"

"There's an abandoned part of Twolegplace, full of large Twoleg nests," he answered with a glance over his shoulder. "She and the strongest of her cats live there. Her followers bring her news from all over the city there."

She nodded slowly, following him closely as he picked his way carefully through the maze of tangled streets. She almost marveled at his ability to find his way through this crazy, tough place; it was obvious he had memorized much of the territory in the half-moon he had lived here with the others.

She could see the subtle shift in the Twoleg nests, as they became more run-down and gloomier. She shivered, wondering how any cat could stand to live in the abandoned nests, which seemed to gape at her, like sagging, empty faces.

The scent of cats and cat markings grew in her nose, and she glanced at Jag anxiously. He didn't appear worried, but it was always hard to tell with him.

Amber's home was unmistakable; the scents of all the she-cats who had come and gone over its steps was almost overpowering, and there were at least three cats in the front, one near the steps, the other two draped over the railing. Their eyes narrowed as Reedrush and Jag drew nearer. Finally, the two on the steps, both white with soft brown markings on their face and matching blue eyes, padded forward.

"Who are you two?" one hissed. The other spat at Jag. "Toms are not welcome here."

Jag was unmoved. "We need to speak to Amber."

They sneered at him. "Why would we ever let a tom speak to the great Amber, boss over the city?"

"I heard that Cane was a boss as well," he growled. Both pairs of blue eyes narrowed in fury, and the two she-cats seemed ready to attack.

Then, the she-cat on the steps, a pale silver tabby with flecks, rose and moved forward.

"Lace, Luna, step back," she ordered. Both she-cats glanced at her, then bowed slightly and took several step back. Reedrush blinked in surprise; for a moment, she considered that this silver she-cat might be Amber, even if the name wasn't fitting. She certainly held the authority of a she-cat used to power.

She was quiet for a moment, sizing them up, before flicking her ear at Reedrush, ignoring Jag entirely.

"Who are you, and what are you here for?" she asked. "Amber doesn't speak to very many cats."

"My name is Reedrush, and this is my friend Jag," she mewed, deliberately touching Jag with her tail. "He's just as important as I am."

The silver cat gave Jag another look. "What do you want?"

"Our friends were—" Reedrush started to explain, but Jag quickly interrupted her,

"What she is here for is for Amber's ears. It concerns Cane."

She frowned at him, and seemed frozen for a moment, considering what to do. "Lace, Luna, watch them," she said finally. Without another word, she padded away, heading into the house from the open doorway. Jag and Reedrush exchanged glances as the two white she-cats sat down and glowered at them menacingly. Normally, such obvious kittypet heritage would be laughable rather than frightening, but Reedrush was only too well aware of how alone they were; it was just her and Jag, relying on each other now. Silverstreak was captured, and Eaglestrike, Ravenwing, and Buck were gone as well (they could never count on Death anyway).

The flecked she-cat finally reappeared, a disgruntled expression on her face.

"Amber will see you," she said. Shock flashed over Lace and Luna's faces, but Jag and Reedrush ignored them, rising to their paws.

"Only you," the she-cat growled to Reedrush. She glanced at Jag, who was watching the silver cat suspiciously. Finally, he nodded to Reedrush.

"Just call, and I'll be there," he told her. "Nothing can stop me from helping you." She was surprised to realize that he meant it, his eyes blazing into hers with shocking intensity.

"Hopefully I'll have good news," she mewed, before following the silver she-cat inside.

It was obvious whatever had made the Twolegs leave, they had left in a hurry. Most of their furnishings were still in place, albeit somewhat ravaged from the many cats living there. Cushion stuffing was strewn upon the floor, tables lay on their sides, and papers littered the ground. Reedrush stepped carefully and daintily through the mess, following the silver cat down a maze of halls and rooms. Finally, the she-cat stopped in front of a door that lay slightly ajar.

"Treat her with respect," the silver she-cat growled, fixing Reedrush with her piercing gaze. "Amber doesn't talk to just anyone; it had better be good to bring a tom with you so deeply into her territory."

She stepped aside, allowing Reedrush to enter. After a brief moment of hesitation – Jag couldn't hear her scream from here, after all – she stepped forward, brushing past the door.

Amber sat before her, parked primly atop what Reedrush guessed was a Twoleg's sleeping nest. Reedrush had been expecting a lean, perhaps scarred golden tabby; the real Amber was nothing like she had expected. Amber had just as much kittypet in her as Lace and Luna; that much was obvious from her thick, luxurious fur. Her white pelt was splashed with black and gold, proud she-cat colors. It was obvious from her piercing amber gaze, however, that this was not some plump kittypet relaxing in an old Twoleg home. Amber's looks were disarming, deceiving, and Reedrush knew she took full advantage of them.

"Sit," Amber said; her voice was gentle, fluffy as a cloud, but there was a concealed threat there. Reedrush immediately obeyed, feeling light-headed as Amber's honey-like scent wafted down to her.

_I'm practically clay in her paws, _Reedrush realized. _How must it be for toms, the way they are with she-cats? Perhaps it's a good thing Jag isn't here after all. _

"Now," Amber mewed, settling herself into a more comfortable position, "tell me, why are you here? It's interesting that you brought a tom so deeply into my domain. That doesn't happen often, but I've learned that it is usually for good reason. What is your name?"

"R-Reedrush," she stammered, hating the hesitation in her voice. She shook her head as if to clear it, but Amber's sweet scent seemed to envelop her. "My friend's name is Jag."

"And what is it that you want from me?" she asked sleekly.

"My…my friends were captured," Reedrush said slowly. Amber gave her an encouraging flick of her ear, and quickly Reedrush spilled her story, telling her everything that Jag had, leaving out the bits about Silverstreak and the forest. Amber listened intently to her tale, her lip curling with distaste as Reedrush mentioned her hated brother, Cane.

"And you want my help to rescue them?" Amber asked. "You think you can play up my hatred of my brother, to get me to help you for your own gains?"

Reedrush's heart sank, but she was surprised as Amber smiled. "You're right," Amber purred, "I'll do anything to get at that fox-face. Where are they being held, then?"

"I'm not sure; Jag knows more than I do, honestly."

Amber looked thoughtful. "If it was one of his smaller little prisons, I'm sure your friend wouldn't have thought it so dire as to dare come to me, knowing my, ah, distaste for most toms. They're probably in his main stronghold, on the other side of town." Her paws kneaded the Twoleg nest. "I would so love to invade it, right under his idiotic nose. My brother, you see, is a simpleton," she informed Reedrush. "He's honestly an idiot; probably would have been hit by a monster if my mother didn't baby him as much as she did….Oooh, it would truly be a delight to get them out."

Reedrush's heart rose. "So you'll help us?"

"Of course, have no fears about that. I'll make sure to get all of your little friends out, and perhaps some other prisoners as well…." She licked her whiskers, as if eating a particularly delicious piece of prey. "I've been wanting to for some time, you know, but I haven't been able to infiltrate it well; most of the toms under my rule are weak or broken from being put in their place one too many times. But your friend…a striking chap, or so Flicka tells me. He'll be perfect; Cane will want him, I'm sure. He needs all the soldiers he can get, with me out there." She looked smug. Then, to Reedrush's surprise, she leaped from the nest nimbly, landing in front of Reedrush. She wrapped her thick tail around her paws for a moment, before giving it a twitch. "Come on, then, don't just stare at me," she chided, brushing past Reedrush and out of the room. The silver tabby had to hurry to keep up.

Amber was saying something to Flicka as Reedrush entered the hall, but glanced at Reedrush and stopped speaking.

"Take her back to her friend; I'll rally the troops," Amber ordered. "Tell Lace and Luna to spread the world to Charlotte and the others; they'll have it over the territory quickly, so everyone is on high alert to be called upon."

Flicka nodded, moving down the corridor quickly. Reedrush was on her tail as they moved quickly through the maze again; she let out a breath of relief when cool wind greeted her face as they stepped outside.

Jag stood as she padded towards him.

"Well?" he asked, and she flicked her tail to Flicka, who was whispering to Lace and Luna. With a nod, the white she-cats dashed away, one going up the Thunderpath, while the other went down.

"Amber will help," she said as their white pelts disappeared from view and Flicka went back inside. "You have to get into Cane's camp, though. She has a plan, I think."

Jag nodded. "I'll do whatever I must."

She smiled, brushing her muzzle affectionately against his shoulder, before turning to wait for Amber.

Amber took her time rallying the troops; Reedrush began to pace impatiently, while Jag stood as still as stone. Finally, her head turned as Flicka appeared in the doorway. She ran down the stairs and into the old, worn Thunderpath without a word. Cats followed her immediately, pouring out of the old Twoleg nest. Amber brought up the rear, smiling at Reedrush and giving Jag a cool nod.

"What are we going to do?" Reedrush asked her. Amber flicked her tail, to where her cats were already disappearing.

"Just follow them, for now," she said. "Jag will worm his way inside, and get near Cane; the arrogant tom will want to see him face-to-face before deciding to allow him into the group. Jag grabs Cane, holds him hostage, they release the prisoners. Simple."

Reedrush thought about saying how Amber had wanted to see Reedrush before agreeing to help her, but thought better of it. She nodded, looking at Jag. "Can you do that?"

Jag nodded slowly. "I can do anything I must."

Amber gave him an approving nod, and began padding after her followers. Reedrush and Jag followed a short distance behind.

"Cane holed up on the edge of the town," Amber explained as they raced down the Thunderpath. "A big, ugly Twoleg contraption; no class in that tom, none at all. It's run-down and full of Twoleg junk in big boxes. The windows are almost all broken; that where we'll enter when your tom gives the signal." She nodded to Jag. Reedrush bristled slightly.

"He's not _my _tom," she growled. "He has a name, and it's Jag. And he's probably fought more battles than you could ever dream of, you lazy kittypet!"

Amber's eyes flashed, and she let out a hiss. "We don't have to help your friends if we don't want to, so don't get any ideas. I wouldn't use that tone with me if I was you!"

Jag's fur was bristling down, and he gave Amber a threatening glare. "Don't _you _use that tone to _her_," he snarled. "I could take you with one paw in the mouth of a dog!"

Amber looked ready to unsheathe her claws, but she finally let out a soft hiss and gave herself a slight shake. She gave Reedrush an appraising glance. "You're closer than most tom-she-cat pairs," she observed. "Interestingly so."

Reedrush and Jag exchanged uncertain glances, wondering if Amber was angry, but the calico she-cat simply continued following her army without another word, with Reedrush and Jag trailing cautiously.

Cane's "base" was indeed on the edge of town; it was well past nightfall when they finally reached it. Reedrush had to agree with Amber despite herself that the Twoleg building was ugly; it was some sort of building for holding Twoleg junk. Large and gray, it seemed to loom over the Thunderpath, glaring down at them with jagged, broken windows.

"Now, this will all be very easy for you," Amber mewed to Jag. "Go down there, talk to the orange tabby; his name is Spitfire, but you don't have to address him as such if you want to be on the cautious side. He'll take you inside to speak with Cane. There will be plenty of guards, but you don't have to fear them. Cane will try to be dramatic when he decides whether or not to accept you. He might move towards you and circle you; if he does, that is when you must grab him. Yowl to alert us, and my soldiers will be at your side in seconds, coming through the window. In the confusion, you should be able to find the prisoners." She gave Reed a nod. "Keep close to them, though, or they might be attacked on accident."

"Where do you think the prisoners are?" she asked anxiously. Amber gave her a shrug.

"From what I know, their dens are inside of boxes that are broken; they simply scoop out all of the Twoleg junk and line it with anything they can find. Your friends are probably in one such box."

Reedrush's eyes widened as she stared into the warehouse's windows; box after box after box lay inside there. How would she find them?

"Guards are usually a good sign," Amber advised her, before flicking her tail sharply at Jag. "Go! I want my she-cats to be home before dawn!"

Jag's eyes narrowed slightly at her, but he padded forward down the street. Reedrush watched him, then looked for Amber, but the she-cat was suddenly nowhere to be seen; her other cats had somehow disappeared as well.

Reedrush let out a hiss of pain as teeth grabbed her tail and jerked her backwards, into the darkness of an alley. Amber's eyes glowed in the darkness, glaring at her, and the calico leaped into what appeared to be a giant Twoleg garbage holder. Reedrush stared at her incredulously.

"You want to hide in _that?"_

"The guards sometimes stray, and it wouldn't be wise for them to scent us. Get in!" Amber hissed, her voice echoing off of the metal sides. "My she-cats are hiding, but they'll be exposed if the guards find you lurking around here; no she-cat would be so stupid as to come alone!"

Holding her breath, Reedrush scrambling into the bin, letting out a gasp as the stench of the trash hit the roof of her mouth. She gagged, and saw Amber looking at her smugly.

"Who's the kittypet now?" Amber asked, before fixing her amber eyes on Cane's home. "Keep your ears pricked. We have to be there within seconds, or your tom friend might pay with his life for his treachery."

Reedrush strained to see Jag, but could not because of the angle at which she sat. She glanced at Amber, who was watching with a hungry expression. Reedrush's pelt prickled at her strange expression, but thought better of saying anything.

Reedrush was on edge, her tail lashing despite herself. She knew Amber was probably staring at her, wondering at this concern for a tom, but she didn't care. Jag was her friend, the only reason she was still alive now, the only reason little Blizzardkit was curled up next to a warm belly. Without Jag, she would have been lost. She owed him everything.

She wasn't sure how long they waited, each moment seemed to be painful, drawn-out. She would almost rather be sticking thorns into her paw and taking them out one and a time. What if they had rejected Jag, and attacked him without causing a stir? Or what if they had led him into a trap? What if they attacked him while he held Cane hostage? There seemed to be a thousand things that could go wrong, and in Reedrush's mind, every one of them played out.

When the yowl came, Reedrush nearly leaped out of her pelt.

"That was—" she started to say, turning to Amber, but the calico was already racing down the Thunderpath. Scrambling to her paws, Reedrush dashed after her.

Amber's soldiers were magnificent. As soon as the yowl had sounded, six of them had raced out of the alley, taking down the few outside guards with barely a mew. The others stormed towards the windows, taking down any poor tom that might have been guarding them, and streaming inside like a torrent. Reedrush darted behind Amber as the she-cat forced herself through a narrow window, ignoring the blood seeping into her white fur from a cut caused by the jagged glass. Reedrush was smaller and escaped harm, but she stopped and stared at the chaos before them.

Bodies churned and writhed before her, knocking over boxes with their violent thrashing. She couldn't separate she-cats from toms, save for the tortoiseshells and calicos; she couldn't even see Jag. Panic rose in her throat as her eyes raked the floor, but she couldn't pick out one cat from the rest.

Amber let out a yowl of triumph, her eyes glowing. "Who's stronger now, brother?" she spat. Following her gaze, Reedrush felt a tremor of relief as she spotted Jag's scarred pelt. He seemed untouched, as Cane's guards were focused on fighting for their own lives, rather than their leader's. But where was Cane?

It took her a moment to locate him under Jag's bulk. He, like Amber, was not what she had expected. She had thought Cane would be a mighty tyrant, huge and scarred; in truth, she had imagined Jag as Cane, albeit with a different pelt color. But Cane was weak-looking, thin, with a lean, lanky build under his dark-striped coat, the same color as the warehouse's dusty floor.

At Amber's yowl, Cane's amber eyes flicked up at her, narrowed in hatred. Jag looked up as well, smiling as he spotted Reedrush.

Springing down from her perch, Reedrush raced to his side, narrowly avoiding a strike from a scarred tom who was lashing out at a pale ginger she-cat.

"Are you alright?" she asked anxiously, and Jag nodded.

"Amber knows her brother well," he said simply.

"You two go and look for your friends," Amber purred, startling Reedrush by appearing behind her. "I'll deal with my brother."

Cane let out a spitting hiss, and Reedrush glanced at Jag uncertainly. She could only imagine what the she-cat would do with her brother in such a vulnerable position. Still, time was of the essence; eventually one side would crumble. If it was Amber's side, Reedrush and Jag would be trapped by vicious toms. If Amber's side won, they might hurt Eaglestrike and the others, thinking that they were the enemy.

Jag quickly released Cane before sprinting away. Reedrush only had time to see Amber and Cane sizing each other up, before she followed him.

"How are we going to find them in all these?" Reedrush asked anxiously. Jag shook his head wordlessly.

"We'll simply have to look," he said. "I doubt they'll keep anyone on the higher levels of boxes, as it's too dangerous. Nor will they be on the very bottom, in case the boxes fall. They've probably moved many boxes to a different area over time, where they'll be safe and none can fall on them."

Reedrush nodded, and with a last glance at the battle, she and Jag began their search, looking for a place where boxes might have been moved or dragged. In many places, the dust had been stirred up by paw prints; it was these that she and Jag followed.

"There," she said, flicking her tail towards a pile of collapsed boxes. "They must have pushed a couple away from that, right?"

Jag nodded, and the two of them padded towards the pile cautiously, wary of attack. Opening her mouth, Reedrush held up her tail in warning as she caught a strange scent. She frowned at it; it didn't quite hold the dusty smell of Cane's group, but it wasn't quite a smell that she knew, either. It was almost familiar, but slightly….

Jag moved forward suddenly, thrusting his claws into one of the boxes that had a large hole in the side. A yelp of pain greeted his claws, and Jag pulled back, hissing.

"Get out," he ordered. Yellow eyes blinked in the darkness, and a black shape slunk out slowly, looking at them first with guilt, then surprise.

"Jag! Reedrush!" the tom exclaimed. His voice was familiar, and realization was gnawing at Reedrush, but she was incredulous. Surely this wasn't…?

"What are you doing here, Death?" Jag hissed angrily. The tom, Death, blinked at him, guilt in his eyes again.

"When I knew the battle was lost, I ran off, to…fight another day, y'know. I followed those toms here. Weird place, huh? Good base, though…."

"And you joined them to save your sorry pelt?" Jag demanded. "Then hid when the battle happened?"

"No, no!" Death's eyes were wide. "I never did that! I thought that if I could get in maybe I could help Eaglestrike. So I did what you did, I told that Cane cat that I wanted to join – nasty fellow, made me fight one of his guards. A half moon ago I couldn't have done it, but…." Death puffed out his chest with pride.

Reedrush was still staring, hardly able to believe her eyes. The Death that greeted her now was almost unrecognizable. His skinny frame had filled out from the bounty of living with others. Lean muscles rippled under his fur, a testament to the work he had taken upon himself, working hard for the group with Buck injured and unable to hunt. Whereas before Death had seemed gangly, with a frame too large for his skinny body, he almost looked complete now; it was obvious that if he continued to train he would look a bit like Jag, only not as large. Death let out a purr, seeing Reedrush staring.

"Impressive, huh?" he asked. "I've been working hard, darling. Now I can impress the ladies." He gave her a wink. Jag let out a threatening growl, and Death's ears flattened; however much he had grown, it was obvious he was still a bit cowardly at heart.

"As I was saying," he meowed hurriedly, "I beat the tom and he let me join up. And I found Eaglestrike and the others; I was trying to think of an escape plan. Then, when the battle started, I kind of, ah…hid."

"And you didn't think that the battle would be the perfect cover to escape?" Jag demanded, and Death's ears flattened further.

"I hadn't gotten that far!" he said defensively.

"Well, we need to hurry!" Reedrush said urgently. "Lead us to them, Death, and hurry it up! We need to get out before the battle resolves itself one way or another."

Death nodded quickly, slipped out of the box the rest of the way. He flicked his black tail and darted off, forcing Jag and Reedrush to hurry to catch up.

Death moved through the piles of boxes easily, and Reedrush felt that she was actually a bit grateful that he had come. It showed a bit of courage for such a tom to risk his neck to save the others; after all, only a moon ago or so he had been completely alone, living on whatever she-cat he attempted to seduce.

He stopped in front of another pile of over-turned boxes. Paw prints suggested that guards had been posted, but they had left during the battle.

"Eaglestrike, Ravenwing!" Death chirped brightly. "Come on!"

Eaglestrike's yellow-amber eyes blinked in the entrance, and he poked his head out, his muzzle breaking into a smile of delight as he saw Reedrush and Jag.

"You two are alright!" he purred, before blinking. "Was this battle you're doing? Where is Silverstreak?"

The thought of Silverstreak made Reedrush's heart sink, but there was no time. "We need to get out, and quickly," she mewed. "Before Amber or Cane wins."

Eaglestrike nodded, pulling himself free of the box. Lithe Ravenwing followed, then Buck, who was favoring one shoulder over the other. Looking closer, Reedrush realized all three of them bore wounds, although none of them appeared to be too serious.

Then, to her surprise, more cats followed. A ginger tom helped his pale silver sister out of the box.

Reedrush blinked, astonished that so many cats had fit inside the same box. Eaglestrike gave her a wane smile.

"It was crowded," he said, before flicking his tail. "This is Brightfire and Rainsplash."

Reedrush gave the cats a slow nod. Something about Brightfire and Rainsplash's names was bothering her. She stared at Brightfire's blazing pelt, before blinking as she recognized the pelt of Robinkit, Frostfeather's daughter.

_Their father! _She thought with surprise. _Is that where I heard of Rainsplash? _She wondered, turning towards the pale silver tabby. She couldn't remember Frostfeather ever mentioning the father of her kits having a sister.

"Hello, Reedrush," Rainsplash said. Her voice was soft, but pleasant to the ears, like the sound of rain hitting leaves. "Jag told me you met an old enemy of mine."

Reedrush glanced at Jag wonderingly, before blinking again as the name came to her. "You're the she-cat who cost that tom his eye," she realized. Rainsplash nodded.

"Snake always had a bit of a weakness for silver she-cats, and after Slaughter took over, he thought he was stronger than he really was. I set him straight." She licked her chest calmly.

Reedrush had to give Rainsplash a measure of grudging respect; those toms had been terrifying when she was with Silverstreak, let alone facing one by herself.

"We should go," Jag growled. Eaglestrike nodded, turning to Death.

"Where is the easiest way out?"

Death blinked slowly, glancing around. "There's a tower of boxes leading to a window at the back; it's a short distance away from the lake."

Reedrush blinked with surprise; the Kalan had never known of the warehouse being so close.

Eaglestrike nodded. "Lead the way."

Death sprang away, his black pelt disappearing into the shadows of the boxes. The others fell into step behind him. Reedrush smiled slightly at the confidence in the dark tom's step as he led the way through the towering pillars of boxes; it was good to see that he had more faith in himself than before.

Light from the broken windows streamed onto the floor as Death stopped in front of, as he said, a large tower of boxes. He paused, turning back towards them expectantly.

"No one is too hurt to climb, right?"

Ravenwing glanced at Buck, but he shook his head.

"I can manage," he growled.

"I'll test if it's safe," Eaglestrike offered, springing onto the first box and moving quickly to the second. The fifth was next to the window, but it shook slightly as he sprang off, landing in the entrance of the window.

He winced, turning back towards them. "Broken glass on the bottom, be careful," he called down, before disappearing as he sprang onto the ground.

Buck was next, climbing slowly and painfully to the top; Ravenwing was right after him, followed by Brightfire and Rainsplash.

"Go on," Reedrush mewed to Jag, but he shook his head. "I weigh the most; I'll unsettle the pile," he growled. "You two first."

Death sprang nimbly up and out of the building; with a glance at Jag, Reedrush climbed up as well. She hovered in the broken window, waiting for him.

Carefully, Jag began climbing up the boxes. They wobbled under his weight, and Reedrush held her breath anxiously.

Jag reached the top, the boxes swayed underneath him, and jumped just as one box slipped to the side. Reedrush saw his eyes widen as his paws slapped the edge of the window, straight into a shard of glass.

"Hang on!" Reedrush yowled, reaching for his scruff as blood oozed from his paws.

"I'll get out the other way," Jag hissed, his claws sliding against the slickness of his blood and the window. "Go!"

He released his grip, landing with a thump on his paws. Reedrush couldn't see him in the shadows. Her heart pounding in panic, she prepared to leap, only to feel someone grab her scruff and drag her backwards.

"Let me go!" she snarled, thrashing. "He needs me!"

"He'll be fine, he just has to come the other way," a voice growled in her ear; Brightfire. She stopped struggling, and he released her.

"Then we need to get to the front, now. He might need our help!"

"Jag is a capable tom," Eaglestrike said calmly. "He'll make it out by himself and get to the lake. Don't worry."

Her fur bristled. "He helped save you! What if he's in danger? What if he's attacked or can't make it out? I'm not going to leave him!"

"Reedrush," Ravenwing mewed in a soothing voice, "he'll be okay. Have a little faith in him."

Reedrush looked away angrily, turning towards the window, but could see no sign of Jag. What if he was lying there in the shadows, bleeding, unable to move or cry out? What if he didn't come back?

"We need to hurry to the lake; there are wounds to be tended, and we all need a good meal," Eaglestrike said gently. Reedrush finally nodded, and the group turned away, following Eaglestrike as he padded away from the building, into the thin grass.

They padded t the lake in silence; Reedrush's pelt prickled anxiously as she thought of Jag, praying that he was alright. She knew he was the strongest tom she had ever met, but falling and fighting his way out….

Scents flew towards her on the breeze, causing memories to stir in the back of her mind as she realized they were nearing the lake. This was where she was raised, where her mother had brought her after fleeing her shadowy pursuers. This was where her mother had felt safe.

This was her home, until the Twolegs ruined it with their Thunderpath, splitting the territory and scaring the prey away. If it wasn't for them, what would be different? Would her father have died? Would her mother have disappeared while with kits? Would the Kalan have collapsed? Would she have ever even taken the chance to sleep with Blitz?

She shook her head, throwing the questions away; they were useless. There was no changing what had already happened. Wishing wouldn't bring anyone back, to life or anywhere else.

"This is where we camped before," Ravenwing mewed as they entered the reeds by the lake. "I suppose we'll camp here again. I can go hunt after I tend to wounds."

They turned to Death expectantly, but his ears flattened. "I thought with Brightfire here I wouldn't have to hunt as much," he meowed. Reedrush almost would have smiled if Jag was there; Death was as lazy as ever when there wasn't a threat, it appeared.

Buck speared him with his piercing amber gaze, and Death swallowed. "I'll hunt," he said sulkily, and slipped away through the reeds.

"I might as well, I am uninjured," Brightfire meowed; the ginger tom followed Death, vanishing from sight.

Anxiety gnawed at Reedrush as the sun rose slowly into the sky, casting a warm glow over the reeds that had once been her home. The sun offered her no warmth, however, as she watched for any sign of Jag.

Then, finally, her heart rose in her throat at the rustle of reeds, and Jag appeared, his broad shoulders pushing the reeds aside. She raced to him, burying her nose in his fur for the second time in less than a day. He was just as nonplussed as he had been before, but this time his tongue rasped gently over her ear. She pulled back, looking him over for injuries. His paws were bleeding from the glass and there was a cut over his nose, but he seemed uninjured.

Eaglestrike smiled, seeing the scarred tom. "We're glad you are alright."

Jag gave them a quiet growl, sitting down with a slight sigh of pain.

"I'll get some cobwebs and burdock for that," Ravenwing murmured, disappearing.

"What happened?" Reedrush asked.

Jag shrugged. "It took me awhile to find my way back. Cane was giving orders to his troops to chase the last of the she-cats out."

"So Cane won?"

"I'm not sure anyone won," Eaglestrike said thoughtfully. "From while we were there, we observed an odd relationship between the siblings. Cane ranted about his sister often, but although his toms brought him news of their weakness – a dog was in their territory, I believe – he did not attack. He treats their animosity as a game, and I think she does as well. They hate each other, but love the game, and they need each other as well."

"Need each other?" Reedrush echoed. "Why?"

"Both sides only accept one gender, tom or she-cat," Eaglestrike answered. "That obviously limits their capabilities. There's a third boss in the city, an upstart named Carmelo. Carmelo is an accepting fellow, taking in toms and she-cats. He's only weak now because when push comes to show, Cane and Amber will team up to take down any outside threat. Blood is thicker than water, and all that."

Reedrush blinked at the perplexing pair, but simply shook her head. "I knew they were crazy."

Eaglestrike nodded in agreement. "Completely, but they're basically harmless…now, something I wanted to ask you two. Where is Silverstreak? Why isn't she here? I can only assume that you went in her place to the half-moon meeting and found Jag there instead of me. I was obviously a little busy, but Silverstreak? Why didn't she come? Was she injured?"

Reedrush and Jag exchanged glances like old friends. Reedrush sighed, and took a deep breath.

"It's a long story…."

**AN: Sorry sorry sorry about the lateness! I was planning on this chappy being a Christmas present, but things got in the way and this chapter became giant and…yeah. So sorry. D:**

**My apologies, Shimmertail; normally I would answer your simple question with a yes or no, but unfortunately that question is complex because of plans I already have. Please check my blog (linked on my profile here) and I promise I'll answer it with the other questions for this chapter!**


	31. C h a p t e r 30

C h a p t e r 30

By the time they reached the half-moon, Silverstreak was filled with selfish doubts. When she had first been captured, she had been worried for her friends; now, although she was loathe to admit it, she was worried about herself. What if her friends were going to leave her here after all? Eaglestrike would be a good leader for them, she knew that, but what would PeakClan do to her if they thought that she had no hold on the so-called rogues, that she was useless to them?

Under Stonestar's rule, PeakClan was already not taking any chances; there was always a guard outside her den, sometimes two, although she noticed that Northstar was never given the position. Northstar was never allowed into the den, either, although several other warriors had peeped inside when they thought she was asleep or unaware. The Clan was curious, that much was obvious, even understandable.

By the half-moon, she had nearly given up hope of any sort of rescue. By the next day, the hope was entirely gone.

The second day after the half-moon, she awoke with a jolt. At first she wasn't sure what had woken her; then she realized something had caused a stir within PeakClan. After being with them for so many mornings, she had grown used to the sounds of their stirring in the morning; she knew how they woke, how they stretched and readied themselves for the morning, the noises they made. These noises were not the same.

From the scent near the den, she knew it was Rainwind who stood guard over her once more. He was nicer than some, and she knew he wouldn't strike her if she poked her head out of the den to see what was going on.

She crawled to the entrance of the den, peeking out of the den. Rainwind glanced at her, but said nothing. A few days ago she would have smiled at him, but the captivity and worry had worn her down to the point where such niceties were beyond her.

"What is it?" she asked tiredly. Rainwind's ear flicked at her, but he said nothing.

Stonestar was coming out of his den; Silverstreak followed his gaze and the gazes of the others; they were all staring at several apprentices that Silverstreak didn't know; apprentices were never allowed to guard her. Northstar must have assured them of her supposed brutality; why risk their young guarding scum like her?

"What happened?" Stonestar asked, his gaze sweeping over the three apprentices.

"W-w-we were hunting," one stammered, and Silverstreak realized she knew him after all; it was Mousepaw, Rainwind's apprentice. PeakClan was starting to blur together in her mind.

"Yes?" Stonestar prompted, when Mousepaw stopped speaking; the dusty tom was trembling.

"R-R-Rainwind's guarding S-S-S…her," Mousepaw said lamely, flicking his tail towards Silverstreak. "B-but I wanted to t-train. So I got I-Icepaw and Hawkpaw t-to g-g-g…come hunting. A-a-and…." Whatever they had found had unnerved the already-jumpy apprentice to the point of being unable to speak. Stonestar sighed quietly.

"Perhaps you can tell this story a little more…quickly," he said to the second apprentice, a pretty white she-cat. She blinked her dazzling blue eyes at him.

"Like Mousepaw choked out," she mewed, a sneer on her muzzle as she glanced at the golden tom, who looked down at his paws in shame, "we went hunting because we had nothing else to do; everyone's on edge because of her." This was directed towards Silverstreak, coupled with a piercing stare. Silverstreak met her gaze for a moment, before looking away; she was simply too tired to fight these cats any longer.

Stonestar's eyes flashed. "Please, Icepaw, this is not the time to focus on our prisoner. What did you see?" His voice was a low warning growl, and Icepaw seemed to notice; she straightened up, fixing him with her blue eyes once more.

"We were all hunting together, like I said. We crossed the river even though you said not to, because of the rogues." Icepaw almost sound bored as she recanted their rule-breaking; Stonestar's eyes flashed, but Icepaw's gaze had already flicked back to Silverstreak. "And then we smelled this horrible stench," Icepaw sneered at Silverstreak, "and we knew it was the rogues…."

Silverstreak's fur bristled halfheartedly, but Stonestar surprised her by snarling at the white apprentice, who flinched visibly.

"I will not have such talk from you, Icepaw," Stonestar hissed. "Hawkpaw, you tell the tale, since your sister seems incapable of keeping a civil tongue."

Hawkpaw blinked nervously, his yellow eyes seeming huge in his head at being called upon by his leader. "Um," he said hesitantly, then began speaking quickly, as if the words were rushing from his tongue, "Icepaw's wrong, we really didn't scent anything at all. They were using mud to cover their scent, I think, like they were doing before. And they suddenly sprang out at us, a whole bunch of them…there must have been a hundred!"

"T-t-there weren't that many," Mousepaw mumbled, and Hawkpaw shot him a glance, irritating that his story was being challenged. By now, Stonestar was clearly irritated by the apprentices' inability to tell a simple story.

"No elaboration, Hawkpaw, just tell us what happened," he said gruffly. Hawkpaw quickly nodded, words rushing from his mouth once more.

"Maybe less than a hundred, but there were like four or five. There was one that was obviously the leader, a big gray tabby. His eyes were yellow, really bright, like fireflies or something. He started talking, but he wasn't all big and loud and mean like we thought he'd be; he was kind of soft-spoken, really polite, you know? But there was something in his eyes that let us know he was angry. Really angry.

"He said we had to give her back." Hawkpaw jerked his head towards Silverstreak without looking at her. "Or else."

Stonestar's fur bristled around his ruff. "What else did he say?" he asked, his tone sharp.

"He said he wanted to meet with you; with PeakClan, really. Tonight."

Stonestar's eyes widened. "Tonight? Why didn't you mention that at the beginning?"

Hawkpaw's ears flattened. "You said you wanted to hear everything—"

He flicked his tail impatiently. "You said the leader wanted to meet you; that means they're conditions, I'm sure. What does he want?"

"He's not a rogue."

Silverstreak wasn't sure where the words were coming from for a moment; it took her a moment to realize she had spoken. Slowly, Stonestar turned towards her, yellow-amber eyes narrowed. She met his gaze firmly, feeling familiar fiery anger licking at her paws.

"He's not a rogue," she said again. "His name is Eaglestrike, past deputy of BirchClan, future deputy of my Clan."

PeakClan's warriors rippled uneasily with her words, and eyes turned towards Stonestar again. But he said nothing, simply turned towards Hawkpaw. "What does he want?"

"You have to meet him on the other side of the river, tonight, at moonhigh," Hawkpaw said nervously. "With the prisoner. He said bring as many warriors as you wanted, but no apprentices; he didn't want them to get hurt if it came to that."

Silverstreak smiled, knowing that keeping apprentices safe was exactly what Eaglestrike would want. Then, her heart fluttered as it hit her, really hit her, that her friends were coming for her after all, that somehow they had gone and found Eaglestrike and the others, brought them back to save her. A smile was splitting her muzzle, and even though she felt the stares of the Clan upon her, she didn't care.

Stonestar was looking troubled. "This could be a ploy, to lure our warriors away…."

Sandpelt stepped to his side. "Should we split the warriors evenly?"

"Eaglestrike doesn't bluff," Silverstreak declared loudly. "He says what he means and means what he says. If he's going to fight you, it'll be at your meeting, and I know he won't want to fight at all."

Stonestar turned towards her again, his face inscrutable.

"It would do the rogues little good to attack camp while we have Silverstreak," he said finally. "That would require many cats to split between the two groups, and if we heard any sort of battle on the Peak, I would not hesitate to kill the prisoner in retaliation. I do not believe camp will be raided."

"Where are we going to meet?" Sandpelt asked. They turned towards the apprentices once more.

"H-h-he said over the r-river," Mousepaw supplied. "W-we saw him in a clearing, m-maybe t-t-there?"

Stonestar nodded slowly. "Then we will meet him there," he growled. "Smallfire, Dapplefern, Blazingfoot, you will be with me. Foxclaw will as well, and Fawncloud, if she's feeling up to it. And Sparrowfeather with Sleekfoot."

Sandpelt dipped his head, his eyes sweeping over the camp to see who already knew they were coming, and who he would have to alert. The pale ginger tabby padded away.

"What if they do attack camp?" one of the warriors asked anxiously, a thin tabby tom.

"Then there will be enough warriors here to fend them off," Stonestar said calmly. "We've many more cats than they do, Twigstripe."

The Clan was watching Silverstreak nervously, as if she might suddenly attack; even Rainwind had edged away slightly to one side. Silverstreak searched for familiarity amongst the eyes – surely at least one cat here did not think she was a traitor, a menace, when she had done nothing to them, not even raised a paw towards them? – but she found nothing until she looked into the medicine den. Blackmoon stood there, watching her; she thought she saw guilt in his blue eyes before he turned away and disappeared into the medicine den. Silverstreak thought she saw an apprentice's bright eyes, but those vanished as well as the cat either blinked or moved slightly out of view.

"Tonight, then, we shall settle things with these rogues," Stonestar said wearily. "This might result in a battle, and we don't know how these rogues will fight. I want everyone to be ready. Eat some fresh-kill, everyone; we'll need all of our strength."

With that, he retreated to his den, leaving the apprentices standing there for a moment before they were surrounded by their Clanmates, plagued by questions. Silverstreak listened a moment, but it was obvious she would glean nothing more from Mousepaw's stuttering. With a sigh, she moved back into her own den as well.

She stared at the wall, without really seeing it. Blood pounded in her ears with excitement; her friends were here! She was going to be rescued by them!

But quickly, reality seeped into her, chilling her. Even with new recruits, would it be enough to fight off PeakClan? Would they be able to help her at all? She could only hope that they had a plan.

But there was no point in worrying about it, and after so much time thinking about her situation before, she was all worried out. She had, however, mastered the knack of calling sleep to pass the time – there wasn't much else she could do as a prisoner. She closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, and waited for sleep to snatch her and carry her far away, to a sunlit forest where she could run as far and long as she wanted, with no dirt walls to hold her back.

. . .

She was roughly jostled awake, and it took her a moment for her to become aware of her surroundings.

Sandpelt's amber eyes gleamed down at her. "Come on, we're leaving," the pale tom growled, before leaving the den. Slowly, almost painfully, Silverstreak rose to her paws. She padded to the entrance of the den, then beyond, having full room to stretch for the first time since her capture. She did so with pleasure, letting out a sigh of relief as her tense muscles uncoiled themselves.

Stonestar and Sandpelt stood in the camp entrance, along with the warriors the gray tom had called to go with him on this mission. Stonestar flicked his tail to her with a growl, and she moved forward quickly, lest he change his mind for some reason and leave her behind after all. She was unsteady on her paws, almost weak, but she refused to show them weakness. Stonestar's eyes gleamed at her in the moonlight; then, without a word, he began to walk, the others falling into step behind him.

A slim brown tabby and a sleek gray-blue she-cat slipped into step behind her; she recognized them as Sparrowfeather and Sleekfoot, a pair of she-cats who were rarely separated from each other, even sharing the duty of being her guard. She gave them a nod, but neither reacted, simply continued walking behind her in case she attempted to escape.

They needn't have worried. Silverstreak was much too distracted by the breeze against her face and the smells filling her nose to consider escape. And, even if she had, it would have been impossible; she wouldn't have been able to get away from so many, weak and tired as she was.

They headed down the side of the Peak. Silverstreak stumbled once on the slick rock, but managed to save herself from falling. She shuddered at the thought of slipping off of the rock, plummeting to the hard ground below. It hadn't rained since the large storm when Forest had been clinging onto life; Lightstar's blood was still visible in the moonlight, coating the dirt.

_It's been a dry leaf-bare_, she observed. _Not a single snowflake has fallen this year, something I can't even remember happening before…even Father always said there was snow in leaf-bare, or at least rain that freezes later. Why hasn't there been any this year? It's dangerous; even in leaf-bare, a dry forest can burn…._

She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize she had slipped again before it was too late. Her eyes widened and a scream caught in her throat, before her scruff was roughly yanked. She was thrown against the side of the Peak. She sat there for a moment, panting and staring down to where she could have just fallen, before turning towards slim Sparrowfeather; she hadn't realized the thin she-cat had that kind of strength.

"Thank you," she said breathlessly. Sparrowfeather gave her the tiniest nod, and Silverstreak thought she saw a hint of a smile, before the tabby nudged her roughly, pushing her to keep walking. Still shaken, Silverstreak padded carefully down the rest of the way.

Stonestar paused a moment at the bottom to allow everyone to catch up, before heading for the river. For a moment, Silverstreak feared they were going to jump into it, before she saw the nearly-invisible stepping stones over the river. They were very small, but she still should have seen them before when she needed to cross; she puzzled over it, before remembering again that it hadn't rained for some time. The river had probably been high when she had been looking for a way over; now it was low, and the PeakClan cats were obviously taking advantage of it.

Taking great care not to slip, she crossed it, her pelt prickling with unease as they headed towards the forest, half expecting an ambush. She had to remind herself that it wasn't Eaglestrike's way to surprise an opponent, or catch him off guard; Eaglestrike had always been direct, not accustomed to under-pawed measures…unlike Northstar.

Her ears flattened nervously as the clearing opened up before them, the dead grass looking soft, even healthy, in the moonlight. Her eyes darted into the woods, but she could see no one.

Please let them be here, she prayed. Please let them be safe. Don't let this end badly for us, StarClan.

Stonestar padded to the center of the clearing, holding up his tail for the others to stop at the edge. He turned and looked directly at Silverstreak, summoning her with a flick of his tail. Hesitantly, she padded forward, coming to stand just behind him.

"We have her, rogue, your leader." Stonestar's deep voice boomed, echoing off of the trees. "Show yourself."

There was a rustling in the trees, and a tabby shape dropped down, landing smoothly on his paws. His yellow eyes gleamed in the night as he padded forward.

"Silverstreak," he called softly, and it was all Silverstreak could do not to rush to his side immediately; she had never been so happy to see her foster-brother in her entire life. "Are you safe?"

Glancing at Stonestar nervously, she meowed, "I'm fine. I've suffered no harm, besides boredom and anxiety."

Eaglestrike smiled at her. "I wish I could have been here sooner."

Stonestar's tail lashed. "There is time for idle talk later. What are your terms, rogue? We aren't simply giving her back."

Eaglestrike cocked his head to one side, studying Stonestar. "Actually, I think you will," he said coolly. As he spoke, there was more rustling in the trees and the crunch of leaves underfoot as more cats sprang downward. They were out of sight, but quickly strode forward, the moonlight hitting their faces and splashing them with silver: Jag, Reedrush, Ravenwing.

Stonestar was unimpressed. "Four rogues against my warriors? I think not. If this is all you have to show, we are returning with our prisoner."

Eaglestrike simply smiled, and there was the sound of more cats dropping, more leaves rustling. However, these cats did not appear, although eyes gleamed in the gloom, blinking and twinkling so quickly it was impossible to count them. Silverstreak listened, stunned, as the sound of dropping cats and rustling leaves continued; how many cats were there? Counting every cat in their group, including the kits, there were still at least three unaccounted for…and the noises of cats dropping continued.

She could see Stonestar was quickly becoming uneasy as the cats continued to fall in the shadows. He could not see them, but they were there, and she could smell the tang of his fear-scent.

"Show me your warriors," Stonestar growled. Eaglestrike smiled slightly.

"I don't want to fight you, but my warriors have been told that if they are called, it will be to attack."

Silverstreak could practically see Stonestar's mind working; if Eaglestrike was bluffing somehow, although she had no idea how he could be, then the rogues could probably be driven off. But if he was not, and there truly were so many cats lying in wait, it would mean death for him and all of the warriors with him, then even the cats safe at the Peak.

His eyes flicked towards her, and she knew he was remembering her words, when she had said that Eaglestrike did not bluff. There was a flicker in their yellow depths, and he finally turned back to Eaglestrike.

"What are your demands?"

"You will release Silverstreak back to us," Eaglestrike answered calmly, "and you will give us all of the territory on this side of the river."

Stonestar's eyes widened, and he was not the only one surprised by Eaglestrike's boldness; fiery Foxclaw let out a snarl of anger.

"You cannot barge into our territory and take it from us!" he spat. Then, he crouched as if about to lunge.

"Hold your tongue, Foxclaw!" Stonestar ordered. "No one makes a move without my order. Rogue, what makes you think PeakClan will allow you these demands?"

Eaglestrike flicked his tail towards the woods; the sounds of dropping cats had finally stopped, but the way the eyes of the hidden cats gleamed, disappeared, and then reappeared made them impossible to count. "I have enough cats at my back to finish all of the warriors here…even you, Stonestar. We come from the Clans, remember; we know how nine lives work. When we take your first life, you will be immobile as StarClan heals your wounds…but that will not stop us for inflicting more. You will return to life only to die again, and again, and again until every life is gone. Once this happens, we will move onto the Peak. We cannot easily attack you with the way up the Peak being so narrow. But we can blockade it; we can prevent anyone from getting out. We will starve your Clan. It should not take too long – there are so many of you, and such little prey up there – and I'm sure your warriors will turn on each other, the slimy cowards that they are." Eaglestrike's voice was cold, chilling, filled with more venom than Silverstreak had ever heard from him. She watched him with something almost like horror rising inside of her; would Eaglestrike go so far as to wipe out an entire Clan? A Clan whose help they needed to drive away Lion when he came for them?

Stonestar was silent, listening to Eaglestrike's words, but he did not speak for several moments even after the gray tabby had finished.

"As you said, PeakClan is a large Clan," he said finally. "We need all of our territory to sustain ourselves."

"No, you don't. You need to become better hunters. You need to stuff your faces with less prey. You need to at least _consider _follow the warrior code. You have more territory here than the entire forest where I came from. Three Clans lived on that land, with a fourth in the high mountains where prey is scarce! And yet we made do. It is time you all earned your claws as warriors!" Eaglestrike's voice was growing louder, ringing off of the trees. Ravenwing, Jag, and Reedrush stood at his side, their faces carefully blank. Silverstreak looked for some flicker within them that they knew what Eaglestrike was saying was wrong, but there was none. It was as if her friends had turned into cats that she no longer knew at all.

"How do we know you will not attack us when we hand the rogue over?" Stonestar hissed. "She seems like our only option for bargaining with you right now."

"You have my word as a warrior, although I don't believe you will respect it," Eaglestrike said. "I have nothing else to give you. But what choice do you have?"

The PeakClan warriors waited uneasily for Stonestar's answer. She almost felt sorry for him, if it wasn't for her being his prisoner; he was a new leader coming from a lax regime; he had no idea how to deal with dangerous rogues threatening to slaughter his entire Clan.

But there was truly nothing the new leader could do; Eaglestrike had him in a corner, and everyone knew it.

Stonestar finally let out a quiet sigh. "You may have your leader back. And, for the time being, the territory this side of the river. But we will reclaim it; do not think otherwise. It does not matter how many rogues you have on your side, PeakClan will prevail!"

The other warriors yowled at his words, although they sounded halfhearted; they were reeling from the loss of so much territory, in a meeting where they had thought they had the upper paw.

Stonestar glanced towards Silverstreak. "Go on. Return to your comrades. PeakClan, we are going home to fight another day."

He padded past Silverstreak, flicking his tail towards his warriors. Silverstreak turned to watch them go; not a single one looked at her, as if she was not there. She felt shame blaze under her fur. She turned towards Eaglestrike, preparing to demand what had happened to him while she was gone, only to stop and stare at the cats emerging from the forest.

Frostfeather, Buck, Death (who looked oddly different), little Shimmer, two warriors she recognized as Brightfire and Rainsplash, and Forest, his green eyes glinting at her the way they always had, that crooked smile curling his muzzle. Before she knew what was happening, she found herself racing towards him, burying her muzzle in his fur and trembling as he whispered soothing nothings in her ear, calling her 'princess' and assuring her that everything would be fine. Somehow, even though the others had transformed into cats she no longer knew, Forest was the same.

She wasn't sure how long she trembled against him, relieving herself of all the anxiety and fear of her imprisonment through quiet mews, before she was finally able to compose herself. She turned to Eaglestrike, her blue eyes as cold as ice, ready to demand what had happened to him. Then, she blinked to find pity and love in his yellow eyes as he watched her, mirrored in the eyes of the others as well; gone were the stoic, chilling cats who had assured Stonestar they would kill him. Here were her friends again, watching her with concern.

"W-what happened?" she stammered; it was all she could manage, her confusion was so great.

Eaglestrike's eyes were gentle as he touched her with his tail, so softly it seemed that he felt if he touched her harder, she would shatter into a hundred pieces.

"It was all an act, Silverstreak," he meowed. "Did we scare you? I'm sorry. I'd have thought you'd know we could never do something like that. We'd never do what we said we would."

Silverstreak stared at him, bewildered. "A-an act?" Eaglestrike didn't _do _acts.

_But he has before, _she realized. _When he was pretending to be part of FrozenClan, in hopes of bringing Slaughter down. That was an act as well. He isn't the same, honest Eaglestrike I grew up with. He's changed. I…I guess we all have, from this. From everything._

"Did they hurt you?" Ravenwing asked anxiously, sniffing Silverstreak over. Silverstreak shook her head, still watching Eaglestrike.

"So those things you said you would do? You were just lying?"

Eaglestrike nodded. "It would be entirely possible for us to do those things…if we were completely evil, like Slaughter, or Lion. But you know us, Silverstreak; would we murder cats in cold blood?"

Silverstreak suddenly felt ashamed for doubting them, for thinking her friends could commit such atrocities. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I-I was just there for so long, it felt like years, and everything was just starting to slip out of my paws…I was thinking you were just going to leave me there…."

Forest nuzzled her ear. "We could never do that, princess," he murmured to her, something glinting in his eyes that she could not quite name, although it made her fur prickle fiercely.

Then, she took another look at the cats around her, and blinked. "Shimmer? What are you doing here?" She turned to Eaglestrike. "Where are the other cats that were coming from the trees? Are they still hiding?"

Eaglestrike's whiskers twitched, and Death bounced on his paws. "It was all my idea!" the black tom chirped brightly, golden eyes glowing.

"Was not!" Shimmer said hotly. "Was not was not was _not!_ I was the one jumping from the branches in camp!"

"Well, _I _was the one who told you to quit it, because you sounded like forty cats and were messing up my nap!" Death shot back.

Silverstreak glanced at Eaglestrike, who smiled at her.

"Shimmer and Death both, ah, _contributed _to the plan," Eaglestrike meowed, "but the idea was Forest's."

She turned to him, and found him smiling again. "I heard what Death said to Shimmer, about sounding like forty cats, and it made me think," he said. "I've lived here a long time, and other places too; every group of cats has one thing they're most proud of, and that one thing is what keeps them feeling safe. PeakClan doesn't feel proud of their poor hunting skills or fighting skills. PeakClan knows they will defeat their enemies through pure numbers. And if you take that security away from them, they'll crumple."

"We had to use every available cat to pull it off," Frostfeather meowed. "We needed enough cats to jump from the trees, then climb back up and jump down again, while still having some cats to look at Stonestar and the others and freak them out. That's why Shimmer's here; she promised that if Stonestar called our bluff that she would run back to camp."

It was coming together for Silverstreak now, but something still didn't make sense. She glanced at Eaglestrike once more.

"This is all a bit big, for you," she meowed. "Even when you pretended to be in FrozenClan, it didn't take much but a little mud on your fur. But this…this is something else entirely!"

Eaglestrike let out a low purr. "I'd do anything for you, sis," he meowed. "We all would. As Forest said, every group of cats has something that makes them feel safe, that binds them together. Our thing is you."

Silverstreak was struck speechless, looking at the smiles and the nods of her friends. They had all risked their _lives _for her tonight, knowing if Stonestar had attempted to fight them, they would have lost. And yet, they had come, and they had risked everything in an attempt to save _her. _Their leader. They were more closely bound than she had ever realized.

They were truly a Clan.

**AN: Twigstripe. Worst name ever. D:**

**Question marks in Century Gothic are the bomb-diggoty, though.**


	32. C h a p t e r 31: Snake & Toxin

**AN: This chappy's gonna be done with a lot of flash-backs, so the style will be a lil different. Experimentation time. :3**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**31: Snake & Toxin**

His ear flicked slowly, and his tongue snaked out to lick his whiskers as he stared up at the massive pillar of stone.

_Do not go up the front, _Toxin's voice whispered in his mind. _There will be guards there; they will sound the alarm and you will be forced to fight your way out, and our opportunity will be lost. If we want my plan to succeed, you must be smart, you must be careful, and you must do exactly as I say._

"Of course," he said quietly, as if she was still there standing beside him. But of course, she was not; if all was going well, she was waiting to snatch the curious silver kit.

He smiled, thinking of Toxin's silver pelt, her glinting blue eyes, which held all the chill of ice. He was lucky to be with her, lucky to have found her in the twisted forest. Honestly, he was lucky to have escaped those she-cats and that scarred tom with his life.

His fur ruffled at the very thought. The silver she-cat – Silverstreak, but he hadn't realized that at the time – had spared his life but ordered him to leave the forest, never to return to Slaughter. But how could he? FrozenClan, as different as it was now, was all he had ever known. There was nowhere else he could have gone, and yet he knew if he slunk back to Slaughter with the rest of his patrol dead, he would be punished, and cruelly.

And then Toxin had arrived, in all of her cold, silver-furred beauty. She had been surprised to see him, definitely, and he to see her; Snake had not been aware that Slaughter's daughter was part of any mission. She was cautious at first, but after he had explained his run-in with Silverstreak and her two mysterious friends, Toxin had seemed oddly excited.

Her mission, she explained, was to find Silverstreak, her friends, and Northstar, and kill them all. She had picked up Silverstreak's trail in the mountains, and had followed both her and Northstar to this very forest. She even had a plan that would take care of everything, although it had to be slightly adjusted because of the new cats Silverstreak had recruited. And then, it seemed, everything turned on its head; new cats arrived and left again, PeakClan had some sort of inner upheaval, and Toxin and Snake were forced to simply retreat and watch.

And then, of all things, Silverstreak had been captured. Toxin and Snake had watched, hoping that Northstar would take matters into his own paws and make everything that much easier, but he had not. Instead, Stonestar had released her and granted territory to the rogues; Toxin and Snake had been in the clearing, watching, but both parties had been too busy to notice two extra pairs of eyes that night.

After the meeting, Toxin had been excited once more. _Now Silverstreak thinks herself immune, and safe, _he remembered her saying. _She will become sloppy. And Northstar will be enraged by the turn things have taken. Now, Snake, is the time to put our plan into action…._

Of course, he had needed coaxing; Silverstreak had spared his life. But Toxin was _silver, _and she was beautiful, and she was cunning; before he knew what had happened, she had him wrapped around her paw, although he did not mind. She began making advances that would have been inappropriate back in FrozenClan, but who could honestly say that they minded? It took several nights, but finally Snake swore his loyalty to her, his readiness. To him, it was simply an opportunity to take advantage of; his relationship with Toxin would not hold when they returned to FrozenClan, he knew – she had the infamous Blight waiting for here there – and yet it might increase his status, perhaps leading to him becoming one of Slaughter's nine guards. There were many possibilities, ones that he was all too eager to grab.

_It's quite simple, really, _Toxin had said. _Silverstreak and Northstar hate each other with an easily-manipulated passion. Silverstreak blames him for the loss of her entire family; for some reason Northstar hates her as well, since he attempted to follow her, although he failed rather miserably when he reached the Twolegplace. We can use this, Snake._

_How?_ He had asked.

_It's quite simple. Who is the first cat Silverstreak would blame if something went wrong?_

_Northstar?_

_And who would be the first Northstar would jump to, if something went wrong for him?_

_Silverstreak, _he had said, his single green eye widening as the implications struck him. _But how do we make things go wrong for both of them so they fight each other?_

Toxin had let out a lovely purr, brushing her tail against his muzzle in a way that made his fur tingle. _It's quite simple, really. Very straight forward. All I need _you _to do is kidnap an apprentice…._

And so, here he was, standing at the base of the Peak, staring up at it, looking for a way to climb up.

_It sounds like my job is more dangerous, _he had said.

_But of course, _she had purred, reaching up to lick his muzzle tenderly. _You're the big strong tom, remember. My father picked you because of your strength, your prowess. You can handle any job that I give you…right? I'm sure I can always find someone else._

_No, no,_ he had said quickly. _I can do it. _And she had smiled that charming smile at him, and he'd been content.

But now, squinting up at the column of stone, he felt a little uncertain. _It won't be so hard, _she had said. _Just climb up and snatch the apprentice. She's an early riser, like my target; she'll be there to watch the sunrise. The medicine cat lets her sleep outside for some reason, although she had to promise to sneak inside as soon as the sun rose so no one would see. I've climbed up the Peak several times to keep an eye on Northstar and Silverstreak; it isn't as hard as it looks, really._

_It's just like the mountains back home, _he thought. _Just climb it like you would there._

The memory of home heartened him somewhat; he padded towards the stone, crouching and coiling his muscles before launching himself upward. He let out a hiss as his claws struck the stone, sliding down for a few moments before he found his grip. Pouring his strength into his paws, he began climbing, forcing himself up tail-length by tail-length to the top.

He was out of breath by the time he reached half-way up the Peak; he rested on a ledge only for a moment, leaning against the Peak and panting.

_Forest life makes you soft so quickly, _he thought._ No wonder those forest Clans never stood a chance against us._

He took a breath, licking his nose, and began climbing once more. But this time, he had a goal in mind, something far, far better than the top of the Peak, or the apprentice that waited to be stolen by him. It was a silver she-cat, with a silky-smooth coat as glossy as a mountain stream, as shiny as snow, with eyes like starlight; they were that beautiful leafy green, nothing like her daughter's—

He cut off the thought abruptly, and with his focus lost, the she-cat melted away like the morning dew. He ground his jaw in frustration; she was so hard to get back, so hard to make himself believe that she was still alive, still looking down on him, watching him and the daughter she had abandoned—

There, more troublesome thoughts. They all led to the same place, of course, the same conclusion, the secret Snake had always tried to hide. Because, in the end, Rainsplash had always been third best; Toxin herself was only second best, even as beautiful as she was. The first place in Snake's heart would always belong to her: Toxin's mother.

Slaughter would have killed him in a heartbeat, he knew that. But Snake and Toxin's mother had a long history; they had suckled together as kits, had known each other's scents before they even opened their eyes. But they had not been raised as brother and sister because they _were not _brother and sister. For the longest time, Toxin's mother – it was the only name he could think of her as, after she had disappeared; after she had become Slaughter's mate, "Toxin's mother" was all anyone ever called her – had been confused of her own origins, of why every cat mistrusted her, except for Snake and his siblings. Eventually they had learned that Toxin's mother being in FrozenClan was the result of some sort of "deal" made between FrozenClan and one of the forest Clans, although they never truly learned the specifics; Frozenstar had kept a close watch on such secrets under his rule. But even with the rest of the Clan mistrusting her, Snake had always remained loyal. He loved her, at first as a friend, then as something…more. Snake did not know whether he loved silver she-cats because of her, or whether he had loved her because she was a silver she-cat, but it did not matter; Slaughter – Crowtalon, then – had selected her as his mate, despite her still being only an apprentice while he was deputy. Only a few days after her warrior ceremony, she had kitted, giving birth to Toxin and her sister. And then, before Toxin or her sister were even old enough to be named according to old mountain cat law, Toxin's mother had disappeared, taking Toxin's sister with her…without so much as a goodbye to Snake.

He let out a soft hiss at the memory, clenching his claws into the stone, pulling himself up once more. Toxin was beautiful, but she could never be her mother.

He shook himself, forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand. He continued to climb, latching his claws into the smallest nook or cranny to pull himself upwards.

The top of the Peak finally hung above him, and he pulled himself up, digging his claws into the soft dirt. He lay there for a moment, panting – he really was out of practice – before glancing up at the sky. Yes, the sun would be rising soon…and with it, PeakClan. He had to hurry.

Snake crept forward cautiously through the brush, as quietly as he could manage. He opened his mouth, catching the scent of many cats; less than what TalonClan held, but still an impressive number. His single eye narrowed and glanced around quickly, scanning for any danger; he had to turn his head to make the full circuit.

The camp opened before him, as he crouched in a patch of ferns; sure enough there was a gray apprentice, sleeping in the entrance to the medicine den, both of her front paws tied firmly with cobwebs. He glanced around the rest of camp, but no cats were awake; even with the threat of the rogues, PeakClan was as lazy as ever. That was fine by him.

Making as little noise as possible, Snake slunk forward, barely brushing the ground. He snuck up close to her, then placed a firm paw on her back. Her green-blue eyes fluttered open for a moment, before Snake's other paw flashed forward, striking her on the back of her head. She went still with a moan that sounded like the scrap of claw against stone in Snake's ears. He looked around quickly, thinking that surely at least one cat must have heard, but none stirred.

Grabbing the apprentice's scruff in his jaws – and glancing slightly at her stubby tail, wondering how on earth she had gotten such a worthless behind – he picked her up, holding her so that only her back paws brushed the ground. With another furtive glance around the camp, he dragged her away, pushing past the brush around the edge of camp.

_I will be using blood to trick Silverstreak into following me, _he remembered Toxin saying. _That's the only thing __–__ true concern for another's safety __–__ that would cause her to run away from the rest of the ground without alerting them; she's reckless that way. However, her recklessness is _nothing _compared to Northstar. While he can usually keep his emotions down, if someone that he cares about is in danger, he will take it upon himself to fix it. He does not turn to others for support; he does not lean on the warriors of his Clan. He takes things into his own paws, charges off alone, believing that he is the only one he can trust. This is why you will not use blood, my dear Snake; just the absence of his apprentice will be enough._

_There will be two guards keeping watch of the path to get down from the Peak. You will need the path now; you can't climb down the back with the apprentice in your jaws. Kill the guards; they will only convince Northstar that the apprentice is in more danger, and the Clan will be that much weaker when my father takes over._

He could see them now, the two guards standing near the edge of the Peak, just as Toxin had said. It would be easy to run towards them, push them off with just the slightest effort…but that method would surely call attention, wouldn't it? They would scream, and there would be that noise when they hit the bottom…so a deadly ambush would be the way to do it.

He continued forward as quickly as he could, laying the apprentice down gently in a patch of ferns as he watched the guard.

"They could attack at any moment, don't you think?" one of the cats, a pretty tortoiseshell, asked anxiously.

"I'll protect you, Emberflight," the other guard, a weedy brown tom, promised; his eyes held a sort of adoration as he looked at the she-cat. Emberflight purred, licking his ear.

"Of course you will, Twigstripe, I know that. But what if we aren't enough to protect our Clan? What if we fail and the rogue cats take over? According to those at the meeting, they were ruthless rogues, bloodthirsty. They even said they could kill Stonestar, do you believe it?"

Twigstripe nodded. "We'll do whatever we must for our Clan."

Watching them, Snake was strongly reminded of his own time as a young warrior and apprentice, of promising to serve FrozenClan as best he could. And he and Toxin's mother had often had these little chats as well, speaking of how they would defend their Clan from the fierce forest cats. He felt a strange stirring at the thought of her, saw her leaf-green eyes, only to watch as they were replaced by Toxin's blue pair, holding their infamous chill. He shivered, glancing down towards the unconscious apprentice, before back to the two warriors.

_Why can't I do the same to them? _He thought simply, and padded forward quickly. The brown tom scented him first and turned, but Snake was on him in an instant, sending his head smashing against the hard ground. Twigstripe went limp, and Snake turned on Emberflight with a hiss. Her amber eyes had filled with horror, but as he watched the horror turned to rage, and she sprang forward with a snarl. Snake was ready for her, falling backwards and allowing her to attempt to pin him down. She readied herself to claw his belly, and he kicked upward, sending her flying. She landed in a pathetic heap, winded, and he moved towards her quickly, striking her with his strong paw. She moaned and went limp.

Snake quickly returned to the apprentice, grabbing her and dashing towards the path as if PeakClan was already behind him. He struggled for a grip on the slick rock, being as careful as he could while moving quickly. He couldn't stop the slight sigh of relief as his paws touched the solid ground; only then did he notice his shoulder was bleeding from a small wound. The she-cat must have nicked him when he allowed her to pin him down. He didn't have time to wait, however; Northstar would be coming soon, very soon, and Toxin wanted to be ready when he did.

Snake was forced to forego the stepping stones – to dangerous with such a big burden in his jaws – heading downriver towards the log instead. He crossed it as swiftly as possible, before plunging into the forest.

He headed to the clearing, where Stonestar had met with the rogues; it was there that Toxin had laid her trap. Snake made sure to brush the path as he went, so Northstar would have an easy trail to follow.

Toxin's eyes glinted as he entered the clearing; he moved to lay the apprentice down before her, but she flicked her tail at him impatiently.

"We aren't leaving them in plain sight, that would ruin everything," she snapped. "Over there, in the hollow of that tree. They cannot see it from the battlefield." She indicated the direction with her tail, and Snake lumbered forward, spotting said hollow. He moved to place the apprentice inside, when he blinked; already curled up within was a small silver kit.

He hesitated, before dropping the apprentice inside and returning to Toxin.

"You stole a kit?" he asked. Toxin's eyes narrowed.

"Of course," she growled. "Kits are one of the things that Silverstreak is most touchy about; their innocence is important to her. That kit isn't so innocent; she likes to sneak out before dawn and explore the forest on her own, heedless of danger. A fatal flaw, it would seem."

Snake blinked slowly. "You're going to…kill her?"

Toxin nodded impatiently. "Of course. Once Silverstreak kills Northstar – or vice versa – we won't need the bait, now will we? We'll finish off whoever survives the battle, then the bait, and the war between the rogues and PeakClan will officially begin. It takes care of everything."

Toxin saw the conflict in Snake's eyes, and she sidled closer, brushing up against his side.

"Not having second thoughts, are you?" she whispered to him; his pelt tingled at her touch, and he remembered their nights together, the nights that had convinced him that her motives were only for the good of TalonClan. And yet, something nagged at him, some small feeling that this wasn't right, wasn't what Toxin's mother would have wanted her daughter to become….

He fought through the tingling, moving away from her. Toxin's eyes flashed angrily, and then grew cold as they saw the slash on his shoulder.

"What is this?" she demanded. "You're one of our strongest fighters. If you'd been fighting to kill, you shouldn't have gotten a scratch on you!" Her voice was dangerously soft.

Snake swallowed, knowing it would be useless to lie; Toxin would find out, and her anger would be that much stronger.

"I didn't kill them," he mumbled. "They were too…they didn't deserve to die, not like that. I just left them."

She was seething. "Idiot!" she screeched. "PeakClan will think the rogues were showing some sort of remorse, some sort of weakness! The war will be that much more delayed!" Her fur was bristling, her cold eyes were wild; she was losing it, Snake realized. Perhaps she had already lost it, after being cast away by her father like an old bone, send to skulk around the forests unseen, to plot and handle her father's dirty work.

He took a step back. "Northstar will still come, that's why I did it. His anger is too much for him to control, you said that!"

Toxin's eyes suddenly cooled and her fur flattened, her persona changing from a screeching wildcat to her usual chilly demeanor faster than Snake could blink.

"This is true," she murmured to herself. "Silverstreak and Northstar will fight to the death, and both sides will see this…they will see the slaughter of the innocents…." She closed her eyes. "You did not entirely fail, Snake."

She rose to her paws and moved forward; Snake flinched without meaning to, but she merely pressed her pelt against his.

"I forgive you," she murmured in his ear. "Don't worry."

Snake relaxed against her touch, allowing himself to be lulled by her for a short, sweet moment, to mentally replace her frozen eyes with the eyes of her mother, gleaming with gentle love….A quiet sigh of pleasure escaped him, masking the noise of claws slinking out of Toxin's paws.

She moved against him suddenly, knocking him backwards, and he blinked to find her on his chest. Surely she wasn't going to do this now, when Silverstreak and Northstar were on their ways? There was no time for this, not by Toxin's careful calculations. Bemused, he stared up at her, only to realize what was happening as Toxin's claws struck forward, slicing into his soft belly. Snake let out a gasp of pain, blood already soaking into the fur on his stomach.

"I do not accept failure!" Toxin snarled, lashing out again before Snake could so much as move. He let out a wail of pain as Toxin's claws sliced into his face, taking with them the rest of his sight. Blindly he flailed, blood streaming down his muzzle. He felt his paw catch Toxin's side, heard her let out a hiss of pain, before her claws were at his throat.

"I never cared for you, you disgusting waste of a tom," she hissed into his ear. "And my mother isn't waiting for you on the other side."

Before Snake could even wonder how Toxin knew this, his darkest of secrets, she made her final strike. Snake let out a choking noise, the taste of blood overwhelming everything, blotting out everything but Toxin's cruel laughter that battered his ears. He could feel himself slipping away, into some sort of inky black darkness, felt Toxin moved out of his reach even as she continued to laugh, felt everything give way—

And then there was her, Toxin's mother, her pelt blazing with silver glory, studded by stars, her green eyes looking down on him with great sadness, even as everything else disappeared—

And he let out what was almost a whimper with his last breath, a gurgling sigh as he whispered her name,

"Cinderstream."

**. T O X I N .**

She stared down at him in disgust, her lip curled. He made a strange gurgling sound, his mouth moving as if shaping a word while his ruined eyes gazed up sightlessly at the sky. She couldn't hear what he had said, but she already knew.

Her mother's name.

She had discovered his infatuation with her mother several nights ago, when he murmured the name in his sleep. It had been "Toxin's mother" when he spoke, just like it was with every cat she had ever known, save her father; he had always acted like her mother had never existed, had never managed to escape him with his daughter.

One of his daughters, at any rate. Her mother hadn't taken Toxin; she had left her behind to be raised by Crowtalon…and although she loved her father as any daughter does, she knew he was a cruel, calculating monster. Who left their daughter with a monster?

She shook herself, grasping Snake's scruff and pulling him to one side, where he would not be seen. She could do nothing about the blood, but it would only flame Northstar's anger that much more, which was what she wanted. She'd known she would kill Snake from the beginning – she could not share credit for her victory with anyone, not with her father's approval at stake – but his failures had given her a reason, at least.

She shook herself, as if waking from a dream; now was not the time to be thinking about things that no longer mattered. Her mother was gone, she had chosen her sister over herself, and Snake was dead. None of that mattered now; all she had to do now was wait.

She crouched to spring, then winced; Snake had scratched her side with his flailing claws, and it was bleeding. She gave her side a quick lick with her pink tongue, before springing into the nearest tree. She crept along the branch until it bent just slightly under her weight, and sat down, keeping her long tail from falling below the branch. She licked her whiskers with anticipation.

Her plan was finally coming to fruitarian. She had no doubts who would win this battle; Silverstreak was a good fighter, but Northstar was better. Not only that, but dear sensible Silverstreak would eventually realize something was amiss; she might even stop fighting altogether in an attempt to figure it out. But Northstar would have no such qualms. Hopefully, Silverstreak would at least be able to take one of his nine lives.

A rustle made her ears prick, and she saw Northstar stride forward. She smiling, letting out the lowest of purrs; Northstar had wasted no time, just as she had thought. When he was here first, Silverstreak would think he was waiting for her.

"Northstar!"

The hiss made Toxin turn in the other direction, barely able to stop herself from purring with delight as Silverstreak appeared. The silver she-cats blue eyes flashed with hatred as she saw Northstar. He let out an angry yowl.

"Where is she?" he demanded, stepping forward. Silverstreak's fur bristled.

"I could ask you the same question," she snarled.

Northstar's tail lashed angrily. "If you do not tell me where she is, I will kill you," he hissed. Silverstreak smiled, actually smiled for a moment.

"No," she hissed, "I think I'm the one who will kill you!"

The two of them sprang forward, meeting each other and tumbling to the ground in a whirl of dust and claws. Toxin's eyes glowed so brightly she was surprised they didn't see. She licked her whiskers with anticipation: Who would draw first blood?

The two cats sprang away from each other, and Toxin blinked with surprise; it was Silverstreak who had injured Northstar first, as his bleeding nose showed.

"I'll rip you limb from limb, you pathetic she-cat!" Northstar roared, but he did not charge forward. The two of them circled each other, both too blinded by hatred to see the trap they had been forced into. They sprang at each other again; this time Silverstreak let out a wail of pain as Northstar's fangs met her leg, his claws scoring a long slash down her side. But he was not unscathed; she lashed out, catching him in the shoulder with her claws, unbalancing him. Northstar was stronger, but he was also larger; he was not as steady on his paws as she was, and she forced him to the ground. They tore at each other, raking their claws down each others' stomachs, grunting with the exertion of battle. They broke away from each other a third time, both looking wary.

"Where is she?" they both demanded at the same time, but the words only seemed to fuel each other's anger. Toxin could feel herself trembling from excitement, from the sheer hatred between the two, so bright that it was almost visible on its own.

_A battle for the ages, _she thought gleefully. _Snake, your sacrifice was not in vain!_

But time was short; the rest of PeakClan would soon rise to find their apprentice gone, one warrior missing, and their two guards unconscious. Perhaps they would even think Northstar was a traitor for the rogues; how delicious a revenge that would be for Silverstreak, if only she would live to see it! And Silverstreak's own cats were rising as well…the rogues felt secure in themselves, and so they slept more deeply the past few days than they had before the confrontation with PeakClan. But Silverstreak was still filled with self-doubt, still frightened of PeakClan's power, and so she rose earlier than most; it was something Toxin had counted on.

Northstar, on the other paw, had been more tricky; she'd been forced to wait until she'd heard Sandpelt planning the patrols with Stonestar, waiting until Northstar was chosen for the dawn patrol. That meant he would be up early; earliest, in fact. Northstar's ambition drove him forward, made him determined to outshine all others; that meant he was the first to rise when he was on the dawn patrol, first to eat, first to be ready to embark with the others. Glancing towards the sky and the rosy light the sun was creating, she knew that it would be soon that the rogues and PeakClan cats came…but really, wouldn't she still win? Silverstreak and Northstar fighting would spur the war forward, certainly. The rogues and PeakClan finding their bodies, definitely. But if the rogues and PeakClan contronted _each other _during the battle itself…the war would be over before it had even begun.

She licked her whiskers hungrily, watching as Northstar and Silverstreak sprang at each other repeatedly, giving each other a few wounds before springing away again. They could not continue this strategy forever; one of them would have to force the other down to secure victory. One of them would have to make the strongest move.

And that would not be meek, weak Silverstreak. It would be ruthless, brutal Northstar who made that final push for victory. He would be the one to win this fight. And then she, Toxin, would pick him off in his weakened state, would tear at his body just as the rogues had said they would to Stonestar, would kill him even as StarClan healed him. Both of them were doomed, no matter what they attempted.

The hatred in Silverstreak had begun to dull, replaced with uncertainty; with the soft cat she was, she was trying to understand the situation at paw, trying to see why Northstar was asking where Shimmer was, even though he had apparently been the one to capture her. Toxin could already see that Silverstreak was questioning herself, as she always did, wondering if she was in the right or the wrong. Toxin wrinkled her nose in disgust; such softness should have gotten Silverstreak killed moons ago; how sad that she, Toxin, was the one who had finally arranged it.

"Where is she?" Silverstreak asked again. Northstar's eyes narrowed, blazing with hate.

"If you do not give her to me, I will kill you," he spat. "I will kill you in the most painful way I know possible. At least if you hand her over, your death will be swift!"

Silverstreak shook her head, confused, and Northstar struck again, succeeding this time in getting Silverstreak on her back, slashing all the way down her stomach before leaping away, before she even had time to attempt a counterattack.

Silverstreak struggled to her paws, blood rushing from her wounds; she swayed on her paws.

"I don't have anyone," she meowed, but Northstar wasn't listening; he was looking for the way into his next attack. He found it as she turned, launching himself into her side with crippling force. Silverstreak yowled with pain as Northstar smashed her to the ground, driving his full weight into her using his shoulder, crushing her against the torn grass. He sank his teeth into her shoulder, and her back arched in pain. She flailed with her claws, slashing his shoulder and side, but he did not move, still biting down. Blood stained her silver fur, and her struggles were growing weaker.

Then, she landed a kick at Northstar's stomach, knocking the breath out of him. He quickly staggered backward, allowing Silverstreak a chance to scramble to her paws. She moved backward, leaning on Toxin's tree for support as she panted, facing Northstar.

"I don't have anyone," she wheezed again. "Who are you looking for?"

Northstar snarled. "I followed her scent here; don't pretend you don't have her. Give her to me!"

He took a step forward. "Your death can be painful, or quick. Which would you prefer?"

Toxin was trembling with excitement; finally, Silverstreak would die. A pity she hadn't put up more of a fight, but the war was a certainty now, there was no avoiding it. She would kill Northstar herself, rejoice as his blood stained her claws….She grinned.

Then, something happened. A single drop of blood that had oozed from Snake's parting gift to her had been running down Toxin's side for several minutes as she had been watching the battle. But now, the drop had met its end, quivering at the very tip of Toxin's fur.

And then, it fell, falling past the branch, past the leaves, straight downwards. It landed directly between Northstar's ears.

Northstar blinked as the drop hit him, hesitating for a brief moment. Then, his gaze searched the sky, as if checking for rain; but of course, there was not a single cloud in the sky. He blinked slowly as it dawned on him, that this drop had come from somewhere; Toxin could see it dawning in Silverstreak's eyes as well.

In unison, both Silverstreak and Northstar slowly looked up, into the branches…looking right at Toxin.

**AN: For 10 bonus points of squick, if you do a lil calculating you'll have noticed that Snake was old enough to be Toxin's father; Slaughter was old enough to be Toxin's **_**grandfather**_**, rather than father. Eww.**

**Pity about Snake in this story, though; he was a throw-away character originally in role-play, but for some reason I didn't kill him; then he paired up with a rogue named Marshfoot, and they became a powerful duo for Slaughter's Clan. They actually had kind of a gay relationship, looking back, but it wasn't intentional at the time. Anyway, Snake eventually became a pretty well-rounded character that I liked (he had a thing for silvers and lost an eye originally, so don't think that's new) even though he was a bit different in this version. Still, interesting to see a POV-character die, right? StarClan, the Dark Forest, I dunno.**


	33. C h a p t e r 32

**AN: That was prolly one of the cruelest cliff-hangers ever. I'm so sorry. D:**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**32**

Silverstreak stared up in shock at the glittering pair of eyes above them; she opened her mouth to tell Northstar, but there was no need. Northstar let out the loudest roar she had ever heard burst forth from the mouth of a cat, and before she could even blink he had scaled the tree almost as well as a BirchClan cat. The cat in the tree was already crouching to leap to another branch and make its getaway, but Northstar was too fast. His outstretched paws caught the cat's hindquarters just as it leaped, pushing it down. Its front paws caught the branch, but lost their grip, and the cat landed nimbly on the ground instead.

The silver tabby prepared to flee, but Silverstreak summoned up the last of her strength; ignoring the blood running down her legs, the wounds on her shoulder, the fatigue seeping into her body, she sprang forward, pinning the tabby down.

She was hit with a jolt of shock; looking down at the silver tabby in her grasp was like looking into a lake and seeing her own reflection, albeit one that was at least a year younger than her. And there were other cats there, too; she could see Reedrush in this strange cat – Silverstreak and Reedrush looked alike, so there were no surprises there – and those chilling blue eyes looked like Shimmer's.

The silver she-cat wriggled out of her grasp just as Silverstreak realized her grip had weakened from the surprise; with a glance, the she-cat disappeared into the forest.

Northstar let out a yowl of rage, springing down from the tree.

"You let her go!" Northstar snarled, almost nose-to-nose with Silverstreak. Despite her weakened state, she refused to shrink.

"You're in league with her!" Northstar spat, his golden eyes burning.

"No, I wasn't! Don't you see? This was her plan, to get us to fight. That was Slaughter's daughter." She felt a rush of lightheadedness, and was forced to lean back on the trunk of the ash tree for support.

Northstar stared at her for a moment; confusion and anger flitted across his face, but Silverstreak could tell this new encounter had cooled his temper slightly; Northstar was back in control, pushing his emotions down.

"Slaughter," he said quietly. "Crowtalon, that's right…I remember now." His ears flattened, and Silverstreak knew he was thinking of the Clan he had lost.

"Slaughter's dead," she said softly. "A rogue named Lion killed him. Lion was working for BirchClan; his rogue family was fighting FrozenClan patrols…but they were all killed except for Lion. He was driven mad by the loss, and so he killed Slaughter in revenge. Eaglestrike was there when it happened, pretending to be a TalonClan warrior. And then Lion decided that he was coming after me, and my friends, to complete his revenge." She was feeling weak in the legs, but couldn't sit down with Northstar towering over her. "He's coming here, Northstar. He's going to find us, and kill us. And when he learns from that she-cat that you're here too, he'll kill you."

Northstar stared at her, and she could see himself thinking, wondering if Silverstreak was lying to him, wondering if what she said could possibly be true. Northstar turned away from her.

"I'll run," he growled. "Lion will never find one cat in the entire world."

Silverstreak's eyes narrowed. "Is that your great legacy, Northstar? You fled your Clan after you lost it, and now you'll flee PeakClan as well, leaving them to their fates? What about the cat you came here to save, Northstar? Are you going to leave her as well?"

Northstar's ears flattened. "Knowing her…she's probably already dead. She was a vicious apprentice, but Crowtalon was very proud of her…he said she'd make a good deputy someday. I should have known he was plotting against me…." Northstar ground his jaw.

"But they could still be alive," Silverstreak meowed. "I'm looking for someone too, a kit named Shimmer. You already met her. There was a trail of blood and scent that led here, so…maybe Shimmer's already dead, but if so then she's still here, somewhere…." There seemed to be a great lump in her throat as she swallowed; she couldn't imagine Shimmer being dead, the icy light gone out of her eyes, her sharp tongue silenced.

"Rabbitpaw's scent led here as well…but there was no blood…." Northstar seemed to be in just as much shock as Silverstreak; it was the only reason he hadn't already killed her.

"'ey?" a tiny, quivering voice made Northstar turn. Silverstreak's eyes widened as Shimmer's small form appeared from the brush, staggering forwards; she appeared to be slightly stunned, although Silverstreak could see no wounds on her.

Silverstreak took a step forward, but Northstar moved more quickly than she did, padding towards the kit. Shimmer blinked up at him; for once there was real fear in her eyes.

"Where is Rabbitpaw?" Northstar growled. Shimmer stared at him, then looked at Silverstreak helplessly; she looked shell-shocked, confused.

"I just wanted to asplore," she mewed. Silverstreak took another step forward, swaying slightly.

"No one blames you, Shimmer," she mewed soothingly. "Northstar, if you dare hurt her…." The threat proved to be empty when she stumbled. Northstar didn't so much as spare her a glance.

"Where is Rabbitpaw?" Northstar growled again, his tone sharper this time. Shimmer's ears flattened, and she suddenly dashed forward, running to Silverstreak's side and burying her nose in Silverstreak's blood-matted fur. Silverstreak gave her a soothing lick, as the kit trembled against her side.

It took Shimmer a moment to collect herself; when she did so, she turned to Northstar slowly.

"We were in da tree," she mewed. "A hollow."

Northstar plunged into the brush where Shimmer had first emerged; Silverstreak heard Northstar let out a growl of surprise as he found something, although she could not see what. Then, Northstar let out an angry snarl, which Silverstreak knew was directed towards Toxin.

The brush rustled, and Northstar reemerged with a gray apprentice in his jaws; Rabbitpaw, the apprentice he had been given by Lightstar before Lightstar's death. Silverstreak swallowed; she was almost completely defenseless, and now that Northstar had Rabbitpaw, he did not need her, nor did he need Shimmer.

Northstar stared at them a moment, indecision in his eyes. Then, slowly, he turned away, carrying Rabbitpaw towards PeakClan.

Silverstreak watched Northstar disappear, heading for the peak. She let out a sigh of relief, only to hiss in pain as her injuries flared; she was out of danger from Northstar now, but the adrenaline had faded, allowing her injuries to take hold. Her legs crumpled beneath her, and she fell to the ground.

"Get…the others," she rasped to Shimmer, whose face swam before her as everything faded to black.

. . .

_The smell of ash clouded her nose, and her eyes fluttered open slowly. Ashstir was standing there before her, a gentle smile on his face._

"_What happened?" Silverstreak asked, rising slowly; she did not ache at all. Fear suddenly gripped her. "Am I dead?"_

_Ashstir shook his head slowly. "You're alive, but you were close to death; the line was blurred, allowing us a short time here together. Walk with me." He flicked his tail, and turned away. Silverstreak took a step forward, and blinked as her surroundings suddenly appeared; she had no idea if they had just appeared from nowhere, or if she hadn't noticed them. Either way, she recognized the territory; it was the lake, by the pine forest, where she had first found Shimmer._

_But there was something different about the lake, something brighter; it teemed with life. She heard frogs croaking loudly, squirrels chattering from the trees, fish splashing in the lake. Why was this lake so different from the one she had known?_

_Ashstir glanced at her. "This is the lake, where the Kalan lived," he said softly. "This is how I remember it, before the Twolegs came."_

_Turning, Silverstreak blinked; the Twolegplace was there, but it was farther away than before, and there was no Thunderpath coming from it._

"_The Thunderpath changed this place," Ashstir meowed. "It tore the lake apart, scared the prey away, forced us to move. I tried to keep the Kalan together, but I failed, and it splintered apart with my death…my mate fled, even with kits in her belly. She was strange, but I loved her." He shook his head slowly. "She was plagued by these monsters, these dark spirits that only she could say. They'd always been with her, but where she had lived before, they'd been unable to touch her…they were kept at bay by her mate, but he was even more evil than them. She fled from him, came here, and fell in love with me. I managed to keep the spirits away from her mind, but when I died they came back for her…she was crazy, you understand, but she was completely harmless, just scared."_

_He was quiet for a moment, gazing into the lake. Silverstreak blinked at him uncertainly, feeling a stirring of pity._

"_Reedrush was her daughter, right?"_

_Ashstir nodded. "And the daughter of that evil tom. But I cared for her as if she was my own. I loved her. And, to my regret, she is my only daughter…that I know." He gazed at Silverstreak, and her fur prickled._

"_What do you mean?"_

_Ashstir shook his head. "There is much I cannot say…much that your parents do not want you to know. But the history of the forest Clans and mountain Clan is not a simple one; it was twisted, entangled. There were no clear sides of good or bad, Silverstreak, and you must remember that. Both sides did things that were wrong…sometimes for good reason."_

"_What don't my parents want me to know?" Silverstreak asked quickly. "They never kept secrets from me."_

_Ashstir let out a low purr. "I'm afraid that all parents keep secrets from their children," he meowed, "but you can uncover them, Silverstreak. Your parents cannot stop you from unearthing them now. StarClan cannot control you or your choices, however much they might want to…." He shook his head. Silverstreak stared at him, confused._

_Ashstir suddenly rose to his paws again, flicking his tail to her. "It is time for you to go, Silverstreak. Lead your friends well. Speak not of our conversation to StarClan; they cannot tread here, in this place of my creation…and StarClan doesn't like having things outside of their control."_

_Silverstreak blinked at him, as the dream began to fade away around her. She opened her mouth to speak, having more questions than answers, but she was too late._

She opened her eyes slowly, staring at the dirt wall of the den. Strange scents filled her nose, and she attempted to sit up, only to let out a hiss of pain.

"Sit down, Silverstreak!" Ravenwing meowed insistently. Obediently Silverstreak complied, turning her head to see Ravenwing sitting next to her, a worried look in her green eyes.

"Oh, thank StarClan you're awake," Ravenwing mewed, giving Silverstreak's ear a lick. "Shimmer came back to get us, and we followed you and found her…Northstar's scent was all over that place, and others too. What happened? Shimmer didn't seem to understand any more than we did."

Silverstreak blinked slowly, the events filtering into her mind. "It was a trap," she said finally. Ravenwing's eyes narrowed.

"Northstar doesn't usually use traps…but he was brutal, wasn't he? Silverstreak, we nearly lost you out there…."

"I'm sorry," Silverstreak whispered. "There was blood, Shimmer was in danger, I couldn't wait…."

Ravenwing shook her head ruefully. "We've been lax, too secure about our superiority over PeakClan…it's not surprising they took advantage of us."

Silverstreak shook her head, sending a spike of pain running down her back. "No. PeakClan wasn't to blame. Northstar was taken advantage of just like I was."

Ravenwing blinked down at her. "What do you…? I'm going to get Eaglestrike, okay? He needs to hear this. I've been keeping everyone out to give you your space, but…." She trailed off, blinking down at her friend with concern in her beautiful green eyes, before turning away. Silverstreak heard her footsteps leading away, heard her quiet voice saying something to the Clan. There was an explosion of noise from her Clanmates, and Silverstreak's ears flattened as the beginning of a headache stirred within her.

"Silverstreak!" Forest's voice made her ears prick, and she turned her head towards him as well as she could.

"Silverstreak," Forest said again; the sound of him saying her name so tenderly made her fur stand on end, making her skin tingle.

Forest glanced at someone just outside the den, and stepped to the side. Eaglestrike strode forward, his eyes gentling as she saw her. She gave him a weak smile.

"I'm fine," she mewed.

"Did Northstar do this?" Forest demanded, edging his way into the den beside Eaglestrike. "I'll shred him, I swear!"

"No, he didn't," Silverstreak said quickly. "We were both led into a trap. It was Toxin."

Eaglestrike's eyes widened in understanding, but Forest simply looked confused. Quickly, Silverstreak explained what had happened, as far as she knew.

"You let her go?" Eaglestrike growled, and Silverstreak's ears flattened; she had left out the true reason Toxin had slipped from her grasp,

"I'm sorry," she said softly, "but I was almost unconscious by that time."

Forest glanced at Eaglestrike. "It wasn't her fault," he growled, and Eaglestrike's fur bristled.

"I know that," he snapped. The two toms glared at each other, leaving Silverstreak feeling confused.

"So Northstar was injured as well? What do you think he'll do now?" Eaglestrike asked, tearing his gaze away from Forest and watching Forest intently.

Silverstreak blinked slowly. "I don't know," she mewed. "Toxin won't hang around now that we know she's here. She'll be running home, and I suppose she'll find Lion there." She sighed quietly. "Maybe she'll tell him she killed me…but he'll certainly know that there are more of us, and that Northstar is here as well; he might kill Northstar just to have his revenge on the cat who started the war that cost him his family. As for Northstar…I don't know. The apprentice wasn't hurt, as far as I could tell…maybe he'll twist it so that I kidnapped the apprentice and attacked him, I don't know. Maybe he'll actually tell them about the real threat coming. Maybe he'll stop conniving and simply run away to save his own pelt." She gave a feeble shrug, regretting it immediately as it reopened her wounds.

"Silverstreak!" Ravenwing chided, pushing past both toms. "I have to fix these again, now." She let out a quiet huff of irritation – Silverstreak almost smiled; Ravenwing was good-natured except when it came to healing – and flicked her tail at the two toms. "Both of you, out. She needs her rest, understand?"

Eaglestrike nodded, giving Ravenwing a quick lick on her muzzle before padding away. Forest's sharp green eyes watched the gray tabby go, before he gave Silverstreak the smallest of smiles.

"It's my turn to take care of you, okay?" he asked quietly. "I'll bring you something to eat later."

Silverstreak smiled at him, and Forest left the den as well.

"Here," Ravenwing mewed, pushing several poppy seeds towards her. "Eat these and rest awhile."

Silverstreak obediently licked up the little black seeds, feeling immediately sleepy – although that might just have been her mind tricking her into thinking that the seeds were already working – and she let out a soft yawn, resting her head on her paws and closing her eyes.

This time no one, not even Ashstir and his mysterious lake, visited her dreams.

. . .

Forest was true to his word, springing upon her with a mouse in his jaws as soon as she awoke. Ravenwing allowed it grudgingly, giving Silverstreak a knowing smile from over Forest's shoulder before leaving the den.

"Thank you," Silverstreak purred, taking the mouse. Forest sat back, watching her, his eyes gleaming with familiar lightheartedness. Silverstreak ate quietly, noting the awkwardness between them, the uncertainty. Whatever feelings they had for each other had been building, rising to the surface under the stress of PeakClan's invasion, but after it seemed PeakClan was subdued, Silverstreak wasn't sure what to feel. She and Forest hadn't spoken much the last few days, after the night she was rescued; she'd been too busy looking over the budding Clan.

Eaglestrike had informed her that while in the Twolegplace, he and Ravenwing had attempted to teach the others the warrior code; Buck caught on quickly, and was by far the most willing to become a warrior. Jag seemed to understand how a Clan worked, but was indifferent on the subject; he would go wherever Reedrush went, it was as simple as that. And Death…well, Death was just looking out for himself like always, although he had made progress.

Brightfire and Rainsplash were, of course, up to date when it came to the warrior code; time with TalonClan hadn't weakened their faith or loyalty to StarClan.

And then, there was the odd case of Axel and Demi, the two kits that Silverstreak hadn't even realized her friends had adopted until she went to check in on Frostfeather's kits.

"Your friends, Mitch and Natasha, found these two," Frostfeather had explained, motioning down to the two new kits she suckled. "They were only a few hours old then; their mother had died during the kitting. So Eaglestrike and the others brought them to me; they narrowly survived." She looked down fondly at the two kits, a ginger tom and a gray-blue she-cat.

Meanwhile, Frostfeather's own two kits had grown dramatically; their eyes were open, and they had begun to stick their noses into everything, including Blizzardkit. Blizzardkit himself was getting big; he was a little over a moon now, and he strutted around like he owned the entire nursery. If Shimmer had been there, she would have put him in his place, but Shimmer was too old for the nursery now even if she had wanted to be in it.

Shimmer was finally old enough to be apprenticed, and given her Clan name; Silverstreak had made a mental note to speak with Ravenwing about perhaps mentoring the silver kit – she would need a firm but gentle paw – but hadn't gotten around to it before Toxin had struck.

Silverstreak realized that Forest was staring at her, and she ruffled her fur at him. "What?"

He let out a low purr. "Nothing, princess; you just get this look in your eyes when you're thinking and worrying. Your eyes are very worried." His whiskers twitched playfully at her.

"Just thinking," she mewed firmly. "Not worrying."

Forest rolled his eyes at her. "After spending days in a small den with you, I think I'd know."

"You were out of your mind with fever half the time!" she pointed out, and Forest grinned at her.

"True," he conceded, "but that doesn't mean I don't know you."

She rolled her eyes with him, and he purred again. "See? Now you're not worried."

She shook her head. "Furball," she meowed, but her tone was light.

She and Forest chatted idly for a long time – Silverstreak could tell they were both skirting around a certain subject, but she wouldn't be the first to risk broaching it – until Ravenwing entered.

"Enough chitchat," Ravenwing mewed firmly. "Silverstreak needs to rest again."

Silverstreak rolled her eyes at Ravenwing, and blinked as she realized Forest had done the same. He smiled at her, then rasped his tongue over her ear and left the den with a slight glance.

Ravenwing watched him go, her own green eyes gleaming, before turning back to Silverstreak. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Silverstreak answered. "I'll be up and around soon, right?"

Ravenwing blinked at her sternly. "Give it a few days before you're charging off to fight Northstar, okay?"

Silverstreak let out a growl. "Fine. I can't argue with you when it comes to this sort of thing."

Ravenwing nuzzled her uninjured shoulder, "Here, eat these, you'll sleep through the rest of the day and the night. It'll pass fast."

Silverstreak complied, eating the seeds. She gave a gentle yawn, watching as Ravenwing curled up on her own nearby nest, before resting her head on her paws and closing her eyes.

. . .

Recovering was slow, but not altogether unpleasant. There were visitors in the little den almost all the time; there was always someone to talk to, whatever she was feeling. Eaglestrike kept her up-to-date on PeakClan's movements – of which, there were apparently none on their side of the river – while Frostfeather and Reedrush stopped by to chat idly, talking about their kits and general Clan life. Buck would bring her food (if Forest hadn't gotten there first) and Death would sometimes hover outside uncertainly until she beckoned him forward, although the nervous tom would rarely say much. Jag would only stop by with Reedrush, but Silverstreak didn't mind; she knew this sort of thing made him uncomfortable, and it made her smile that he would even step foot in the medicine den to see her.

Shimmer was, of course, a curious visitor; Silverstreak had her little chat with Ravenwing the next day about mentoring Shimmer, and the pretty she-cat had been delighted at the idea of having apprentice. Although it wasn't yet official, Shimmer had already become a common sight for Silverstreak in the medicine den, poking her nose into the herbs and asking questions curiously; she even helped replace the cobwebs for one of Silverstreak's smaller injuries.

Still, worry gnawed on her mind as she thought of the dangers facing her budding Clan. Who knew what Northstar would decide to do, when it really came down to it? How much time did they have left, before Lion swept over them like a torrent? Would they be able to hold him back, or would he crush them under his claws?

Despite Ravenwing's warning, Silverstreak was up and moving the next day, although she was careful to stay inside of the den. She attempted stretching exercises, being as careful as she could not to reopen her wounds. Ravenwing, knowing she couldn't do much to stop her besides threaten her with poppy seeds, simply sighed and kept close by in case something went wrong.

Silverstreak was quickly pushing herself further, roaming around camp the next day, venturing into the forest after that. The next logical step was obviously a patrol, but Ravenwing put her paw down.

"You can't be roaming far and wide," she chided Silverstreak, blocking the entrance to the den. "I know you want to move around and everything – I get that, believe me! – but you're not a super cat. You've got to rest like everyone else."

Silverstreak frowned at her. "Ravenwing, my father said that Lion might wait a bit longer than he'd planned before moving in on us. But even then, we aren't—"

Ravenwing's eyes widened. "They told you Lion would wait? Instead of charging at us immediately on time?"

Silverstreak blinked, and nodded, and Ravenwing's eyes flashed.

"Silverstreak, you mousebrain! I've been letting you get yourself all worked up because I thought it was necessary!"

"It is!" Silverstreak meowed, but Ravenwing was not going to hear anything more on the subject.

"You are going to sit down and rest…and you are going to like it!" Ravenwing's eyes shone down on her fiercely. Silverstreak's ears flattened; if she hadn't known Ravenwing better, she might have been scared.

_Maybe it's a good thing she wasn't medicine cat after all, _Silverstreak thought. _She'd have no patience with apprentices…unless it's just me?_

"Yes, ma'am," she mewed meekly. Ravenwing's eyes softened.

"I love you, Silverstreak, you know that," she mewed. "But I can't let you work yourself to death, understand? StarClan will take care of us too. Not everything rests on your shoulders alone. Just take it easy."

Silverstreak nodded, and Ravenwing laid down in her nest, content for the moment.

Still, not even Ravenwing could keep Silverstreak at bay. Two days later, Silverstreak was out on patrol, making sure that PeakClan had truly not encroached upon their territory.

She stared at the mud on the riverbank dubiously; it was churned up from paw prints, but it was hard to say how old they were.

"That was just a Buck and Death trying to fish," Eaglestrike said soothingly, touching his tail with her flank. She glanced at him.

"Are you sure?"

Eaglestrike's yellow eyes narrowed. "Don't you trust me?"

Silverstreak licked her chest, letting out a quiet sigh. "Of course I do, Eaglestrike. I'm just...worried, you know."

"Don't be," Forest purred to her, coming from her other side. "We can take on anything, even PeakClan. Even Lion." His green eyes glittered at her, and she smiled back at him.

"We've just got to stick together, and nothing can happen," Eaglestrike said simply. "And…even if we fail, there's always StarClan."

Forest glanced at him; Silverstreak could feel his tension.

"Yeah," was all Forest said, but it was almost a growl.

Silverstreak glanced between the two of them, wondering what this new-found tension was about – was it simply because they hadn't been around each other much before, since Forest had been injured when Eaglestrike and the others had left for Twolegplace? – but it bothered her. A Clan had to be a solid, united thing; they couldn't be separated this way if they were going to survive. She made a note to ask Eaglestrike about it later.

"Sure feels good to be out here though, doesn't it?" Forest asked cheerfully, looking away from Eaglestrike and grinning at Silverstreak. "It was like being born again, being out of the den that first time, after I was sick. You feel it too?"

She nodded, smiling at him; the fresh, clean air of the forest was refreshing after being stuck with Ravenwing's smelly herbs. While Silverstreak had to admit that it was nice, having a medicine den, she still didn't want to be there any longer than she had to.

The medicine den was not the only new addition to the developing Clan; they now had an entire camp of their own. Eaglestrike and the others led Silverstreak to the new camp the night she was rescued; it was in the very center of their side of the forest, in a small clearing. Thick brambles covered the outskirts of the camp; the only way in or out was between two fallen logs, and the entrance was nearly invisible; it would be hard for any enemy to find them.

Most of the dens had been dug out of the soft ground underneath the trees, most of which were ash trees, although Ravenwing had been pleased to note that one was an oak tree, the leaves of which she could use for her medical practice. Eaglestrike and the others had dug the dens out themselves, while devising a plan to rescue Silverstreak. Silverstreak's own den was at the roots of a birch tree that was slightly off to one side, near the edge of the camp. They'd lined it with fresh moss for her return, as she'd been delighted to find; Silverstreak had felt too overwhelmed to even thank them, settling for a long, choked purr, but they knew what she had meant by it.

There was a warrior den and an apprentice den, both close together, as well as a nursery with a narrow entrance that would be easy to defend. Ravenwing's medicine den was at the roots of the oak tree; nearby was a fallen log that Ravenwing used to store her excess herbs. One end of the log had been patched with mud, to keep the log's insides damp and cool. They had even created a den for the elders, with a wide, sandy entrance that was easy to get into and get out of. Silverstreak smiled at the thought; including the elder den meant that the Clan truly believed that someday they would be old enough to retire, to live as elders watching new cats serve the Clan as they had. Her Clan wanted to thrive here, in this forest, and she knew not even Lion could quench their ambition.

Forest was watching her with a smile on his face. "You're glowing," he purred. "Thinking happy thoughts?"

She blinked, snapping out of her reverie, and flicked her ear at him. "That's no way to talk to your leader," she mewed, but her tone was playful. Forest twitched his whiskers at her.

"Enough play," a voice growled; Silverstreak turned to Brightfire, the fourth member of their small patrol, who was facing the river. His fur was bristling, and his mouth was open. Silverstreak blinked, opening her mouth as well, letting out a hiss as she caught the scent of PeakClan.

"Rogues!" she heard a voice call, and the snapping of twigs warned her as the PeakClan cats charged forward, breaking through the brush to stand on the other side of the river. Their pelts bristled angrily as they locked eyes with their enemies.

_What did Northstar tell them? _She thought fearfully. _They obviously don't think we're on the same side. Did he tell them I kidnapped their apprentice?_

"What do you want?" she asked boldly, raising her chin defiantly; she would not show fear in front of her former captors.

"We want our territory back!" the patrol leader snarled, a fiery red tom that she recognized as Foxclaw; he was famous for his bad temper.

"We want revenge for the apprentice you stole, for the two warriors you ambushed!" another warrior yowled.

Silverstreak's pelt was bristling, reacting to their anger, but she forced it to flatten once more. "We aren't your enemies."

"No, just territory-thieves, prey-stealers, and kidnappers!" Foxclaw hissed. The other two warriors yowled their agreement.

Silverstreak's eyes narrowed. "We aren't trespassing on your side; if you want a fight, you'll have to come over here…and we outnumber you, even without calling in our reserves."

She saw the flicker of fear in their eyes as she touched a nerve; Forest had been right when he'd said the only thing PeakClan felt secure about was their numbers. They didn't know they still had that advantage.

She had to force herself not to glance down at the river; it was still low, as not a single drop of rain nor a snowflake had fallen, despite the bitter cold. It would be all too easy for PeakClan to cross.

Foxclaw's kneaded the ground with his claws; it was obvious he was eager to leap into battle. "How do you live with yourselves?" he sneered. "Pretending to be honorable, pretending to be a Clan, when you go and steal an apprentice!"

"How do _you_ live with yourselves?" Forest demanded, stepping forward. The cheerfulness had vanished, replaced by burning hatred as he stared at the PeakClan warriors. "You hide on your Peak, rely on your numbers for protection, ignore your precious warrior code while you flaunt the protection of StarClan. You attacked and killed an old, feeble loner who just wanted to live on the territory he had earned through moons of struggle!"

Foxclaw's eyes widened slightly at the accusation; he seemed almost alarmed. His gaze flicked quickly to the two warriors with him, but they both appeared confused.

"I never heard of any loner being killed," Foxclaw spat, although there was uneasiness in his eyes. "You rogues are liars, every one of you."

Forest took another step, and Silverstreak realized that the danger might not be whether PeakClan would leap over the river, but whether Forest could hold himself back. She touched his flank with her tail.

"Continue your patrol, PeakClan," she growled. "We will not fight you today so long as you stay on your own territory. It is more than enough for your Clan." She turned to the others. "We will continue our patrol as well."

Brightfire blinked at her, and Forest looked furious, but Eaglestrike nodded coolly.

"Keep your peace, and we will keep ours," he meowed across the river, before turning to Silverstreak expectantly. Holding up her tail for the others to follow, Silverstreak turned away from the PeakClan patrol, padding up the river. She half-glanced over her shoulder; Eaglestrike and Brightfire followed, but Forest had paused, seemingly torn. His green gaze flicked from the PeakClan warriors to Silverstreak, then back, and he let out a low growl. Silverstreak held her breath, only to sigh in relief as Forest turned to follow her.

Foxclaw and the other PeakClan warriors watched incredulously as Silverstreak and the rest of the patrol disappeared into the forest. Silverstreak flicked her tail for the patrol to stop, and quickly doubled back, crouching so as not to be seen as she watched to see what the patrol would do. Foxclaw hadn't moved; his gaze seemed to be searching the woods for Silverstreak and the others, but he finally shook his head and motioned for the patrol to follow, heading downstream.

Silverstreak rose to her paws as PeakClan's patrol padded away, only to find herself face-to-face with Forest; his eyes still glowed with anger.

"We could have beaten them!" he spat. "Why didn't we fight? They were almost on our territory!"

Silverstreak was taken aback by his venom. "Almost, but not quite. PeakClan isn't that stupid. And we might not have been able to defeat them; Foxclaw is one of their strongest warriors. Your leg isn't fully healed, and I'm still injured; it might have turned out badly."

Forest's teeth were grinding together, a sound that made her pelt claw. "He was one of them, Silverstreak! He was one of the apprentices that killed the loner!"

Silverstreak' s eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"I memorized his stench," Forest hissed. "It was him."

"Silverstreak?" Eaglestrike asked, striding forward. "Is something wrong?"

"Stay out of this!" Forest hissed at him; Eaglestrike did not flinch.

"Is something wrong?" he asked again. Silverstreak hesitated, then forced a smile.

"Continue the patrol with Brightfire, please," she meowed. "Forest and I need to talk."

Eaglestrike watched her for a moment, concern in his eyes, before dipping his head and padding away. Silverstreak waited until his scent had faded, before frowning at Forest.

"What is with you?" she asked. "You've been angry lately, and most of your anger has been directed at Eaglestrike. He's a loyal cat, Forest. He won't betray us, or you."

"I'm not worried about that." Forest's tail lashed. "I'm angry about those PeakClan idiots!"

"You were angry before we even scented PeakClan!" Silverstreak exclaimed. "Even when I was in the medicine den, you two were uncomfortable with each other. Why? I need to know, Forest. I can't have your loyalty to the Clan being an issue."

"My loyalty to the _Clan?_" Forest's voice was incredulous. "I've been nothing but loyal to this Clan, Silverstreak! Do you think I'd betray you?"

She met his gaze firmly. "You joined the Clan because of me, Forest, because of our friendship. I understand that. But you can't just be here because I'm here; you have to want to be part of this Clan. You have to get along with your Clanmates. It can't just be all about me, because if something happens and I'm no longer around, this Clan will still exist. It will still need you."

"I didn't join because of our _friendship,_" Forest growled. Silverstreak's eyes widened, and they stared at each other, as she wondered whether or not he was saying what she thought he meant.

"Really?" she asked, trying to stay calm. "Then why did you join, Forest?"

His tail was still lashing. "I thought you knew. But obviously you don't share my feelings." His eyes narrowed. "I joined this Clan for _you,_ Silverstreak, not because I wanted to be a part of some big system. If it'd been my call, we'd both be loners roaming the forest, going wherever we wanted, doing whatever we felt like doing. But you wanted to stay here, to build a Clan, and for you I stuck around. But I'm not _loyal _to them. You saved me, Silverstreak, even after I kidnapped you. And you saved me again, when PeakClan captured me." His green eyes were burning, but not with anger. "I would have done anything for you."

She felt her fur tingling, and she swallowed. "But you aren't happy? With the Clan?"

"I don't know how I feel about the Clan. I'm not used to this, living with so many cats. Some of them I like. Some of them I don't. Some of them…are too close to you."

Silverstreak realized why Forest and Eaglestrike had been so uneasy with each other, and she laughed at the simplicity of it. Hurt flashed over Forest's face, and she quickly realized she'd made a mistake.

"Forest," she mewed, but his eyes were narrowed.

"You think it's funny, do you? You think it's funny that I don't like Eaglestrike because you're so close? I see how you two look at each other. I see how hurt you were, when you thought Eaglestrike had changed into someone else, that night we rescued you. I saw how happy you were when you realized you were wrong."

"Eaglestrike and I were raised as siblings! He's like my brother, and he loves Ravenwing."

"But he's _close _to you, in a way that I'm not. You two know each other like no one else does. I don't know you like that. I haven't shared what you two have. And I want it, Silverstreak, I _want it. _I want us to be that close, and to know each other that way. But you're so distant with me, so closed-off…you don't want the same things that I do."

His eyes slid away from her. "And that's why I think I have to go."

Silverstreak felt a sudden pain in her chest, as if her heart was being squeezed. "Forest, no," she mewed, but although she scrambled for the right words, she couldn't find them, couldn't say them. Forest watched her struggle, his green eyes hard.

"Just as I thought. Silverstreak, you left your friends in Twolegplace because even though you loved them, you couldn't handle being that close to them; you didn't have the space that BirchClan brought you. Suddenly you and your friends were all you had, and when Frostfeather revealed that she was with kits, you were confronted with truths you didn't want to face. You ran. And now it's happening again, and you can't let yourself get that close. You feel like you have to keep that distance."

"See? You do know me," Silverstreak said weakly, but Forest shook his head.

"If I stayed, you'd just feel like you had to run again. You'd abandon your friends again." He let out the quietest of sighs. "But I can't let that happen, Silverstreak. You love your friends too much for me to let you abandon them. You've got your Clan now, you've got the space between you and the cats that are now lower than you in rank; this is where you need to be. They need you. So this time, I'm going to be the one to run. I'm going to leave, so you don't have to." He was staring straight at her, his eyes burning into hers. "Because I love you, Silverstreak. I love you so much that it _hurts_. And maybe you do too, I don't know, but this is too much for you to face. My leg is healed, I'm ready to go, so I will. And you can live your life with your precious Clan, and forget all about me."

He looked almost as if he was going to take a step forward, but thought better of it. "Goodbye, Silverstreak," he said softly. And, before Silverstreak could react, Forest had already leaped into the forest that he knew better than anyone else, following trails that only he could distinguish, to a destination only he knew.

**AN: I'm a bit of a KH fan, so Axel and Demi are just shout-outs to Axel and Demyx. Cuz I can~**


	34. C h a p t e r 33: Northstar & Nightshade

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**33: Northstar & Nightshade**

The anger flickered, smoldering in his paws as he swiftly crossed the river. Rabbitpaw hung in his jaws, completely limp, if she had not been breathing he would have thought her to be dead. The fear that she might still somehow die crawled over his pelt, as he faced the climb up the Peak.

He dug his claws into the slick stone, not taking any chances with his precious cargo, forcing himself up the path. His neck ached from Rabbitpaw's weight, but he had to carry her; even awake she couldn't walk on her own, not until her paws were healed.

He felt her stir slightly in his jaws, and he stopped, but she did not stir again. He continued up the rocky slope, seeing the top rise before him.

He set her gently on the ground for a moment, panting, and blinked as he realized Twigstripe and Emberflight were gone. Had they woken up? Or had PeakClan found them and taken them back? He needed to hurry.

He picked up Rabbitpaw again, moving as quickly as he could towards the camp without injuring her back paws, which were dragging on the ground.

He entered camp, and felt the hot stares of the Clan upon him as he headed for the medicine den.

"Northstar!" Blackmoon exclaimed, standing in the entrance. "What happened?"

Northstar ignored him, brushing past the black tom and laying Rabbitpaw down gently in her nest.

"Make sure she wakes up," he growled to Blackmoon, eyes narrowed. The medicine cat blinked at him, unnerved, as Northstar left the den, despite the stinging and throbbing of his injuries; he didn't have time to be coddled by the medicine cat.

The Clan was still watching him; they seemed to be huddled in a group around Twigstripe and Emberflight, who Northstar was almost relieved to see awake and apparently fine; if they were okay, Rabbitpaw would be too.

"Did you find him?" Twigstripe asked loudly. "Did you find the tom that attacked us?"

Northstar hesitated; he had indeed found the tom that had attacked them, dead in the grass near the hollow where Rabbitpaw had been lying. Toxin must have killed him, he knew. They must have been plotting together, it would appear.

But what was he going to tell them? Telling them any part of the truth would result in them wanting the entire truth…and he couldn't give them that. They'd never trust him again, and he'd never secure the power here that he desired.

He ignored Twigstripe, leaving the camp with the Clan whispering in confusion behind him.

He walked down the path of the Peak, halting and looking up at the waterfall. The mist cloaked him, seeping into his fur, but he did not feel the code; FrozenClan had been well acquainted with chills.

What did he do? StarClan was there in the cave, and he could talk to them, but they would only tell him to confess, to turn his back on his own goals. He did not trust StarClan still, and surely they would be angry with him for nearly killing Silverstreak…unless she was actually dead.

His ears flattened. Silverstreak would tell her rogues the truth; would they try to contact PeakClan? Or would they wait for him to make his own decision?

He could lie, could say that the dead rogue had been one of Silverstreak's cronies. Twigstripe and Emberflight wouldn't know the difference, nor would Rabbitpaw when she awoke. Only Silverstreak and her group would, and who would listen to the lying rogues who had taken PeakClan's territory?

But doing so would leave PeakClan vulnerable. They would not be prepared for Lion, if what Silverstreak had said was true, and she was not one to lie. Silverstreak's rogues would survive, if their numbers were really so large as Stonestar had reported to the Clan, but PeakClan was soft…they would be destroyed.

And Rosedapple, Rabbitpaw….His ears flattened at the thought. If Lion had overthrown Slaughter, he would be even more brutal; he would not leave an injured apprentice and a lonely queen alive.

_I can't let that happen. I faced StarClan for Rabbitpaw…I'm not going to flee now._ His jaw clenched as his resolve deepened. _I care for Rabbitpaw, and Rosedapple; there's no point in denying that. And if there is one thing I am not, it is a coward. I will not flee this place and leave PeakClan to die._

He tilted his head towards the Peak. _But I cannot tell them the truth, either….Not quite. Not without raising questions about my own origins. If I told Stonestar the truth, he would never trust me, and PeakClan would still not be ready for Lion when he came. _

His golden eyes narrowed. _PeakClan will have to be strong enough to fend off the invaders. And, Silverstreak…we might have to join her for the time being. We'll see her forces, see how they compare to ours, and then maybe we can know how to run them off the territory…._

He let out a quiet sigh. A moon ago, maybe he would have lied, blamed everything on Silverstreak. A moon ago, perhaps he would have fled to save his own hide while he plotted. But he was not the same cat he had been then, as much as he might try to deny it. If it had been StarClan's plan to change him, they had succeeded, if only by a small margin.

He turned and headed back up the Peak.

. . .

Ignoring the stares of his Clanmates once more, he entered Stonestar's den without a word. The gray tom looked up in surprise; Sandpelt, who was also in the den, turned to face Northstar.

"Who do you think you are, that you can come into my den without notice?" Stonestar asked, his voice a low growl. "You do not have that kind of rank."

Northstar's tail lashed; now was not the time to quarrel about rank.

"I need to talk to you," he growled to Stonestar. "Only you." He glanced at Sandpelt who was looking uncertain.

"I can come back later to continue the discussion," he said softly to Stonestar, but Stonestar shook his head.

"Northstar, you are not the leader of this Clan, nor are you its deputy. You are a warrior like every other, despite what you apparently think. You will not dismiss my deputy." He rose to his paws. "But you _will _explain what happened this morning, to our guards as well as Rabbitpaw."

Northstar's eyes narrowed. "Unfortunately I cannot, with your deputy here."

"There is nothing you can tell me that you cannot also tell Sandpelt." There was a dangerous tone to Stonestar's voice, and Northstar realized he had been overstepping his boundaries too often, underestimating Stonestar's own will and capability.

"Unfortunately, there is," Northstar growled. "This is something that must be told in absolute privacy. It is not for a deputy's ears, only for the ears of a leader. You." He turned to Sandpelt. "Do not think that I overlook your power when I say this; it is simply the truth. There is much I need to explain, and I will do so for Stonestar's ears only."

Sandpelt hesitated, then glanced at Stonestar. "I will return," he meowed, then met Northstar's gaze. "And when I do, you had better be finished."

The pale tom brushed past him as he exited the den; Northstar turned his head to watch him go, before turning back to Stonestar.

"Your explanation had better be good, to justify this," Stonestar meowed. Northstar dipped his head.

"It is. As you know, I was chosen for the dawn patrol; I awoke before dawn to prepare myself for the patrol and ensure that I would not be holding my Clanmates back. Usually in the morning I stop by to see Rabbitpaw; it was early, but I thought I might as well do so. When I approached the medicine den, there were obvious signs of a struggle; when I peered inside I saw that Blackmoon was asleep, and Rabbitpaw was nowhere to be seen. I assumed the worst. The stench of rogue hung thickly over the camp, and I followed it. There I found Twigstripe and Emberflight, both unconscious, but without wounds that I could see."

"And you did not think to alert your Clanmates of this?" Stonestar demanded. "You did not think that either of our warriors might have been injured more greatly than you could see?"

Northstar regarded him coolly. "I will admit I was more concerned for the apprentice, and I believed I did not have time to run back to the Clan and alert them; you and I both know the Clan is slow to stir."

Stonestar blinked, then nodded.

"I believed Silverstreak was to blame, and although I did not think she would hurt the apprentice, I was not sure if her rogue friends would. Rabbitpaw was in more danger than Twigstripe or Emberflight. So I followed the trail, crossing over the river into their territory. Silverstreak was waiting there in a clearing." He hesitated for a moment, still partially weighing his options, before plunging forward.

"I demanded to know where Rabbitpaw was, but she asked something about another she-cat's whereabouts. I believed she was mocking me, and so I attacked. We fought, and I was injured as you can see.

"I overpowered Silverstreak, but I felt something was wrong; she was hesitant, nervous, and she was trying to claim that she didn't know what I was talking about. A drop of blood landed on my head, alerting me that we were not alone; a cat crouched above us in the trees. I sprang for her, and she fell. Silverstreak attempted to catch her, but was too weak and the she-cat got away." He swallowed. "Her name was Toxin."

Stonestar looked at him curiously. "Do you know her?"

"She is the daughter of the cat that cost me my Clan."

Stonestar blinked again. "So she is Silverstreak's daughter? Why did she betray her mother?"

"No," Northstar growled, "she is not."

Stonestar's eyes narrowed. "I don't understand. What are you saying? Silverstreak did not cost you your Clan?"

Northstar forced the word out. "No."

Stonestar was on his feet, pelt bristling. "Are you saying you lied to me?"

"I told the truth when I said my deputy was plotting against me!" Northstar hissed. "Silverstreak was simply not that deputy; she was never involved, we were not in the same Clan. My deputy was Crowtalon, a traitor. I lied to implicate Silverstreak because she is my enemy; it seemed easy to me to get rid of her then. I knew PeakClan would never trust her word."

Stonestar's eyes were blazing. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't exile you right now, Northstar. You nearly put all of my warriors' lives in danger!"

"Because your warriors' lives are still in danger!" Northstar hissed. "Silverstreak is not a threat right now. Lion is!"

Stonestar's eyes glittered dangerously. "Talk quickly, Northstar, before I lose my patience with you."

"My deputy crowned himself leader of our Clan after I was exiled. But he corrupted it, molding it into a frenzied society with himself as the sole ruler; he called himself Slaughter, called his Clan TalonClan. Toxin was his daughter, and I can only assume Slaughter sent her here to kill both Silverstreak and myself by planting a trap for us. But Slaughter is no longer in control. Somehow, Silverstreak knows otherwise; I would bet the answer lies with Eaglestrike. He was the former leader of Silverstreak's Clan, BirchClan, and when BirchClan was destroyed he disappeared; I can only assume he was still lurking in the forest. Eaglestrike brought news with him, news of a new cat that had killed Slaughter and taken his place. His name is Lion, and he is out for revenge. He wants to kill Silverstreak, and now that he knows of my existence, I believe I will be next."

"So why shouldn't we exile? You being here is what puts us in danger!"

"It won't matter whether or not I am here. Lion will crush any cats in his path; revenge has a way of swallowing up everything until nothing else matters. I should know that better than anyone. Even if I leave, he will destroy PeakClan and everyone in it." His ears flattened. "TalonClan is made up of the remnants of four Clans. You do not have enough cats to fight them alone. Silverstreak…must become our ally." The words were painful, like shards of glass being forced from his throat.

"So you lied." Stonestar's voice was cold; the fire had abruptly gone out in his eyes. "You told us the rogues were our enemies, when really they are the only allies we have. What am I going to tell the Clan, Northstar? What can I say to them that will help them understand this? They will not listen to me. They want revenge for the territory Silverstreak has stolen from us, as do I. Your lies have poisoned their judgment; they will not believe that the cats they thought were enemies are now their only hope. Prejudice against rogues runs deep in this Clan, Northstar. I cannot force my Clans to ally with those they despise."

Northstar stared at him in disbelief. "It is not a question of what they want, it is a question of what they need."

"To many of PeakClan, it is the same thing. I do not have the power over them that I should; PeakClan is in decline, and has been for moons. The only thing I can do to make PeakClan strong again is to unite them against a common enemy. And right now, that enemy is Silverstreak and the others."

Northstar's eyes widened. "We are still going to wage war upon them? Now, when we need their help?"

"We must. PeakClan will become strong in the face of adversity. We will be strong enough to fight off Lion when the time comes. I will transform this Clan into what it was moons ago, when our faith in StarClan was unshakable, when our loyalty to the warrior code was unbreakable, when our power knew no bounds. And if I must fight Silverstreak and the rogues to do so, then so be it. We must make sacrifices, in the grand scheme of things, but we will preserve this territory."

"And Lion? What will you tell them when he arrives?"

"We will have crushed Silverstreak by then, no matter how great her numbers. And I will tell them that Lion is another branch of Silverstreak's group…as will you." His yellow eyes were firm. Northstar stared at him. "Northstar, you have lied to me and manipulated this Clan. If you want a place in it, you must agree with me. You must back up my story with your own. Is that understood?"

Northstar's mind raced, but there was no solution he could think of, no easy fix for the mess he had created. _My actions brought this upon me, upon them, _was all he could think.

"Yes," he said finally. "I will."

"Leave my den," he ordered. "And do not tell Sandpelt of this. You were right to send them away…I do not want his conscience tarnished by our doings." Stonestar's shoulders seemed to slump, and Northstar saw the pain this was causing him, how lying to his Clan was tearing him up inside. But Stonestar was right; there was nothing else they could do.

Northstar left the den; Silverstreak would be defeated, no matter her numbers; Stonestar's determination told him that. He should have felt happy, that his greatest enemy would finally be defeated, perhaps by his own claws.

Instead, he felt hollow inside.

**. N I G H T S H A D E .**

Her paws felt almost numb as they trudged along; a pebble had become lodged between two of her toes, but she could not shake it loose, and she did not dare to stop and hold the group up. Even though Blight and Maggot were ahead of her, she could almost feel their piercing stares on her pelt. She shivered.

Everything felt like a blur since she had killed Phoenix; nothing felt real to her. It was as if she was walking in a fog, like she was lost, like she didn't understand anything anymore. She was a good cat; Blight had saved her. And yet it was for Blight that she had killed three innocent cats. What did that mean? Was she not good? Had she not been saved? She could not believe that Phoenix had been bad, had deserved it. That just didn't make sense to her. Phoenix had tried to be her friend. And Nightshade had killed her.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Phoenix's terrified face, smelled her blood, felt her flesh underneath her claws. Everything had turned upside down after that moment.

They had found sanctuary in Maggot's group, but it had not lasted long. Nightshade had been afraid, afraid of Tremor, afraid of what he might do in revenge. Blight had been convinced her fears were unfounded.

"Rogues aren't like that," he had insisted. "They don't come after those who kill them. They aren't like a family. Rogues follow one leader, and when he dies they follow a new one. Perhaps her brother might come after us, but unless he kills Tremor first, the others will not follow."

Blight had wanted to stay, to check out the territory farther. "Slaughter gave me a mission," he explained. "I was supposed to pad as far as I could in one moon, and return in another. I was supposed to scope out all of this territory, but I was side-tracked by you." He had touched her flank with his tail gently. "I don't regret it, but it means I've fallen behind; I had intended to win over the rogues and continue my search, but as you know things got out of paw. Maggot will be a boon, but Slaughter will still be displeased with me If this is all I have to show for my efforts when I return."

But Blight had not been able to explore the territory as he had wanted, and he had been wrong about the rogues. Tremor and his band of rogues had attacked Maggot's group, fighting brutally and mercilessly, wanting revenge for their three dead.

And Nightshade had cowered in her den, unable to face her enemies, unable to fight, hoping that they would not find her. She wasn't sure if she could raise her claws against them, if it came to it, even if her life depended on it.

Tremor's band was driven away, but Maggot's group had sustained losses, and Maggot was angry. Blight had been furious that Nightshade had not fought, and he had beaten her, but she had not minded; wounds at his loving claws were easier for her to bear than at the claws of Primrose or Rumble.

Blight had decided that they had no choice but to leave then, and there was not time for them to go deeper into the forest; there was nothing they could do but slink back to Slaughter and hope that his wrath was not great enough to have them killed for their failure. Blight had been worried, and she had tried comforting him, but he had been dreadfully angry with her for causing the battle in the first place.

"You fight them when it put is in danger," he had snarled at her, "and you cower when we need you the most!" Blight's words had stung her, cut her, just as badly as if he had used his claws. Blight had turned away from her in anger, and now she trailed behind him as they walked, rather than beside him, and did not dare to stop to remove the pebble.

"Is something wrong with your paw?" a cat growled to the left of her. She turned, blinking at a pretty silver she-cat who gave her a small smile.

"My name's minnow," the she-cat mewed. "You're Nightshade, right? Blight's cat?"

Mutely, Nightshade nodded. Minnow glanced down at her paw, blinking with concern. "It's bleeding, you know. It has been for awhile. Shouldn't you get that checked? Can't you stop a minute or something?"

Nightshade's ears flattened; Minnow was being friendly, but Nightshade couldn't trust herself. What if she killed Minnow too? What if she was some sort of horrible monster, one that even Blight could not save?

"Hello?" Minnow frowned at her. "Are you listening to me?"

"I'm fine," she meowed, her voice a low growl. "Leave me alone."

Hurt flickered in Minnow's green eyes. "Alright, fine." Minnow's pace slowed so that she was walking behind Nightshade, leaving the calico she-cat feeling more alone than ever.

. . .

They paused to rest at sunhigh, the entire group clustering I bunches underneath the trees. Nightshade attempted to follow Blight, but stopped as he let out a warning hiss. Feeling alone, she stood there uncertainly, watching him stalk away to sit with Maggot and a few of Maggot's higher-ups. She stared, hoping that Blight would turn to her with a gentle smile, beckoning her to him with his tail, but he ignored her coldly.

_I failed you, _she thought sadly. _It is what I deserve for my cowardice, my thoughtlessness. I am sorry._

Her paw was beginning to ache, and she limped forward, leaving blood-stained paw prints behind her as she went to sit underneath a bush of her own. She licked the pebble out, letting out a sigh of relief, only to wince as her paw began bleeding more freely. She licked at it with her raspy tongue, but it did nothing to stop the bleeding. There were no leaves to press it into, and so she simply laid it on the ground, staring at it.

_Rumble could have fixed it, _she thought, and her heart ached with lost. Her actions had cost her the few friends she'd had.

_First Robin, then Phoenix, and Rumble too__…__if Buck had come with me, would this have happened? No. Buck would have died trying to protect me, and Blight would never have gotten me. I would have never been saved__…__.Maybe I can find Buck, someday. Maybe I can save him too._

The thought made her smile slightly.

"What are you smiling about?"

She jumped as the voice surprised her, and found Minnow watching her curiously.

"I didn't mean that meanly, or anything," the tabby said, eyes wide. "I was just curious. You looked kinda happy there for a minute. You don't usually look happy unless you're with Blight, and when you're with him, you're kind of…." She trailed off uncertainly.

Nightshade stared at her, then licked her bleeding paw. "You should go away. You don't want to be my friend."

"What?"

"Bad…things happen to my friends. And it's my fault." Nightshade's eyes were downcast. "I don't want anything to happen to you, too. You seem nice. So you should go sit with someone else."

Minnow quirked a smile. "I would if I could, believe me," she purred. "I'm new to the group, though, I don't really know anyone. And I don't feel like I fit in, you know…?" She swallowed. "You looked like you were like me, like you didn't fit in…so I thought maybe we…." She shook her head. "Never mind, it was stupid. You want to be alone, I get that. It's fine. I guess I'll go…sit by myself." She glanced away from Nightshade.

Nightshade felt a stirring; Minnow was younger than she'd first appeared, perhaps only a year old. Nightshade understood her loneliness, the feeling that she did not belong.

"If you don't want to look like you're an outsider, you can sit by me," she said quietly. Minnow's face lit up.

"Really? You don't mind?"

Nightshade shook her head, and Minnow flopped to the ground, spreading her paws wide with a quiet sigh of happiness. She was quiet only for a moment.

"When do you think we'll start moving again?" she asked. Nightshade blinked, shrugging. "I thought you'd know, since you and Blight were…you know."

"He hasn't been talking to me today," Nightshade admitted, looking down at her paws. "He's angry, but I understand. It was my fault. He had the right to be angry."

Minnow blinked at her curiously, but didn't press the matter. She was quiet for several minutes. Just as Nightshade rested her head on her uninjured forepaw and closed her eyes, Minnow let out a squeak.

"Oh! Looks like we're moving again!"

Sighing quietly, Nightshade opened her eyes, watching as the other cats began to rise to their paws and follow Blight and maggot into the forest. Forcing herself to her paws and hissing slightly at the pain, she took a step forward.

"Um, can I walk with you? Do you mind?" Minnow asked timidly. "It's a bit boring, don't you think, just walking alone?"

Nightshade glanced at her eager face, then nodded. "Walk with me, then, I don't mind. Just don't expect me to talk back."

Minnow grinned, and the two of them fell into step with the other cats.

"I like Leaf-bare, don't you?" Minnow chattered happily as they walked. "I love the snow on the ground."

"there's not any snow on the ground."

"Well, yeah, but there will be soon! There's always snow in leaf-bare, don't you know? It has to snow eventually, and when it does…." She let out a happy purr. "IT used to snow all the time in Twolegplace, but the snow was gross there, all black and gray from the Twolegs and their monsters."

Nightshade glanced at her in surprise. "You lived in Twolegplace?"

Minnow suddenly looked wary, and nodded. "Yeah. I used to." She was uncharacteristically silent, which left Nightshade wondering why the subject was forbidden, but she didn't want to press.

_We aren__'__t friends, _she reminded herself firmly, and they continued.

Walking was dreary and boring, just as Minnow had predicted, but it seemed the silver she-cat could not run out of things to say. She chattered on the entire day, about how blue the sky was, about how she missed the clouds, about how creepy trees looked without leaves, about how much more prey there was in the forest than Twolegplace. Nightshade didn't mind – Minnow had a pleasant voice, and her chatter distracted Nightshade from her other, darker thoughts – but she was sure the cats around them did.

They halted at nightfall to make camp, splintering into smaller groups again; some cats laid down to relax, while others disappeared into the forest to hunt. Nightshade watched Blight regroup with Maggot longingly, before settling down with Minnow.

"Hungry?" minnow asked brightly. "I'm a brilliant hunter. Everyone says so."

"Sure," Nightshade meowed, more to get rid of her than anything; she needed a moment to herself. Minnow let out a bright purr, bounding away into the forest.

Nightshade looked down at her injured paw; the wound had reopened with every step, and was now encrusted with dirt and rocks. She licked it, wincing at the pain, trying to clean it as best she could.

She watched as some of the hunting cats returned, bringing their prime catches to Maggot before settling down with their chosen groups. She watched as Maggot offered a mouse to Blight, and her mouth filled with water at the thought of sinking her teeth into it.

_That should be me, _she thought longingly. _I should be there, by his side, eating with him. _

"Look what I caught!" she heard Minnow's muffled voice exclaim. She turned, and her eyes widened as Minnow entered the camp, a giant black bird – whether raven or crow, nightshade wasn't sure – clamped in her jaws. She beamed at Nightshade, trotting towards her.

"There are oodles of birds in Twolegplace, and I'm the best at catching them," she bragged. "Look how big he is! Isn't he the biggest you've ever seen? Go ahead, take a bite. I want you to taste it first."

Taken aback by Minnow's kindness, Nightshade smiled. Then, her eyes widened as a large black tom rose from Maggot's small group of food-sharers, and padded forward. His amber eyes were narrowed.

"What do you think you're doing, fleabag?" he hissed to Minnow. She blinked at him nervously, her ears flat.

"I-I was just hunting for Nightshade," she stammered. "I caught it for her."

"The best kills go to Maggot, not to cowards," the black tom snarled. He took a step forward, letting out a hiss. Minnow's legs trembled, but her eyes flashed defiantly.

"I'm the one who caught it! Maggot gets all the other food, he doesn't need this crow!"

Before Nightshade could cry out a warning, the black tom had struck, knocking Minnow to the ground viciously. She let out a yelp of pain as he pinned her down, claws digging into her flesh.

"O-okay! You can have it!" Minnow half-screeched, her voice tight with pain. The tom grunted, releasing her, but Minnow didn't move; she was trembling with fear and anger. Blood oozed sluggishly from where the tom's claws had stabbed into her. He bent down to take the crow.

"Don't you dare touch that," Nightshade snarled. Before she knew what had happened, she was on her paws, eyes blazing. "How dare you harm her~"

The tom turned to her with a snarl. "Are you going to stop me, then?"

Nightshade could feel her legs trembling, but anger was blazing inside of her at Minnow's mistreatment. "She followed you all the way here, didn't she? She's a loyal cat, loyal to your cause! And you treat her like dirt because she didn't bring the food _she _caught to your leader?" She realized her claws were unsheathed.

The tom glanced at Maggot, who was watching him with cold yellow eyes.

"It isn't my fault if she doesn't follow the rules," the black tom hissed, bending down to pick up the crow.

Before Nightshade knew what had happened, she had already moved forward, her claws slicing down the length of the tom's muzzle. He drew back, letting out a hiss of pain, as blood stained his black fur. His eyes glowed with anger.

"You!" he snarled, crouching and then lunging at her. His speed took her by surprise and he knocked her down, standing over her just as he had Minnow. She yowled in pain as his claws sunk through her short fur, piercing her; she felt blood flow forward, blossoming on her white fur. With an angry howl, she kicked up at his stomach, lashing out with her claws. He stumbled backwards and she sprang to her feet, ignoring the throbbing pain in her injured paw. She lunged forward, and this time it was she that knocked him down, slashing at his stomach. She fastened her teeth into his shoulder even as he raked his claws down her side, biting as hard as she could until he let out a bellow of pain. He kicked her with all of his strength, sending her flying into the air.

The breath flew out of her as she hit the ground, and she struggled to suck in oxygen as she attempted to rise to her paws. Her legs crumpled beneath her, as the black tom prepared to spring and finish the battle.

And then, suddenly, Blight appeared, standing between them, his fur bristling and his single eye glowing.

"Don't you touch her," he snarled. "She is mine!"

"Enough," Maggot ordered, striding forward, his own yellow eyes glowing. "I think the she-cat has proven her worth, don't you?"

Blight glanced at Nightshade, then nodded, his gaze softening slightly. He padded to her side, licking her ear.

"You were brave," he whispered to her. She felt warmth rush through her as his tongue rasped against her injured shoulder – he still loved her, he still cared. She purred, pressing her nose into his fur.

"Come and eat with us, Nightshade," Maggot meowed, flicking his tail. He gave minnow a contemptuous look where she quivered on the ground, still terrified, before padding back to his resting place. Nightshade hesitated, but Blight nudged her, and she followed him with a glance at Minnow. Minnow looked about to stand, but the black tom hissed at her, following maggot. He left the crow where it laid.

. . .

Nightshade woke up feeling rested and safe, pressed against Blight. His sides rose and fell evenly, his breath tickling her ear. She moved to the side before standing so she would not wake him, gazing down at his face. It was so relaxed in sleep, although no one could call it gentle. She licked his muzzle, before glancing at the other sleeping cats, searching for Minnow; she had lost sight of the silver she-cat after she had followed Blight.

She spotted Minnow lying alone, the remains of the crow scattered around her; it looked as if other cats had come and stolen most of the crow from Minnow after the black tom had rejoined Maggot. Nightshade felt a pang of pity for the silver she-cat, who looked tiny curled up on her own. She started to take a step forward, before she felt something brush her back leg. She turned, and saw blight blinking sleepily up at her; he had touched her with his paw.

"Awake so soon, pet?" he murmured, as she laid down beside him once more. She nodded sleepily, noticing that her paw no longer hurt; looking at it, she saw it had scabbed over, although it still appeared inflamed.

"What happened there?" Blight asked, giving her paw a lick.

"Just a pebble…it was nothing," she added not wanting for him to think her weak.

"That's my pet," he purred, licking her ear.

They were both startled as Maggot abruptly rose to his paws, letting out a loud yowl. Instantly his cats were awake, heads rising and yawns rippling over the group like a wave. Nightshade felt herself yawning with them, but she did not feel tired; knowing that Blight still loved her had left her feeling refreshed, safe.

"Looks like we're moving," Blight observed, rising to his paws. "Come on. Maybe we'll go a little slower, so your paw doesn't hurt."

"It's fine," she assured him, and he smiled at her with pride before waiting for Maggot to give the signal to move. The white tom held up his tail, flicking it, and began padding forward, leaving the rest of the group to fall into place behind him.

Nightshade craned her neck, searching for Minnow, but could not spot her in the ground of cats. She felt Blight prompting her to move, and allowed him to guide her forward, keeping pace with Maggot rather than the lower-ranking cats.

By sun-high her paw was aching again, and stopping to rest was a welcome relief. Blight kept an eye on her, making sure she rested with Maggot and the others, so she was again unable to speak with Minnow. She did, however, see the silver she-cat hovering uncertainly alone before curling up next to a tree stump, looking around for someone to talk to before finally resting her head on her paws with a quiet sigh. Nightshade's paws prickled as she thought about padding over to her, but she knew Blight would not approve, and she did not want to anger him so soon after gaining his approval.

The group did not rest for long, and she began to limp as they started walking again. It took Blight some time to notice.

"Is your paw still hurting?" he asked, and she nodded. His eyes narrowed.

"You'll just have to be strong until nightfall, and we can rest again, understand? You can't slow us down, we need to move quickly." His voice was stern as he looked at her, and she nodded quickly, not wanting to displease him. It rapidly became obvious, however, that she couldn't keep up with the pace that Maggot had set. Slowly but surely, she was slipping backwards, farther and farther away from Blight. He did not turn towards her, did not drop back to be with her; it was as if she wasn't there.

"Nightshade!" she heard a voice exclaim, and she turned to see minnow jumping forward to walk alongside her. "Hey," Minnow whispered. "Are you okay?"

"My paw," Nightshade grimaced, and Minnow blinked at her sympathetically.

"I'm sorry it still hurts…I don't know anything about healing, though, or I'd help," she mewed. "And I bet your side and stuff hurts too….Nightshade, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to get into a fight. I just…don't understand how this place works, and I'm too scared to fight for myself."

She looked so downcast that Nightshade couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She touched her flank with her tail, and Minnow smiled slightly.

"I just wanted to say thanks," she mumbled. "I know you probably don't want to talk to me, now that Blight isn't mad at you anymore. But, um, can I keep you company until we make camp for the night?" Her ears were pricked hopefully, and Nightshade smiled.

"I'd like that."

. .

Nightfall came swiftly, much to Nightshade's aching relief. Maggot, blight, and the others made their own little group away from the others, as they had before. Minnow went off to curl up by herself for another cold, lonesome night. Nightshade hesitated, staring at Blight, willing for him to look at her, but he did not. She knew if she padded back to him, laid down beside him, that she would be forgiven again; she just needed a little rest, and her paw would feel better. But, at the same time, she was uncertain. Minnow was a sweet cat; it wasn't right that she was alone in this unfriendly band of cats. nightshade struggled with herself, torn by indecision, until she remembered minnow's kind green eyes, compared to the hard look that blight had given her.

_I__'__ll make up for it tomorrow, _she swore. _I__'__ll be the strong cat he wants me to be, I promise._

Minnow's eyes shot open as Nightshade curled up beside her. Nightshade felt Minnow's thrumming purr through her fur, as the silver she-cat snuggled closer to her warmth. She heard Minnow let out the quietest sigh of happiness, before sleep whisked her away.

Nightshade smiled.

**AN: What can I say? Snow days and classical piano music with a dash of GPX+ (got my first Shiny today!) work together to make me work fast. ;)**

**I'll do a double-blog update, since I forgot to for the last chapter~**


	35. C h a p t e r 34

**AN: GPX+ is an online Pokémon site, and I got my first Shiny from it yesterday. I've had a ton of Shinies on the actual games before. :p**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**34**

She was frozen as he disappeared into the forest; she knew he could never catch him, not in the forest that he knew so well.

"Forest!" she yowled, her voice ringing through the trees, but she knew he was already gone. "Forest," she whispered, and her shoulders slumped; her heart felt as if it was collapsing in on itself, folding, squeezing. It _hurt, _and for the first time Silverstreak gleaned a bit of what Forest had meant.

She stood there, frozen with uncertainty. Where was she supposed to go now? What was she supposed to do? How was she just supposed to accept that Forest had gone, that he was missing?

Her shoulders slumped; Forest hadn't returned her cry, hadn't reappeared to comfort her and assure her everything would be alright. He was really and truly gone. Her ears flattened, and she bowed her head.

What could she do now? She knew Eaglestrike and Brightfire were continuing the patrol, probably waiting for her and Forest to catch up, but she couldn't face them without him. Nor could she return to camp alone; Ravenwing would think something had happened on the patrol, that Eaglestrike might be hurt, and would swarm her with questions.

She found herself turning away from where Forest had disappeared, walking back towards the river even though she did not know why she was doing so. PeakClan's scent was stale; the patrol had indeed continued downriver.

She sat on the bank, resting her paws in the paw prints already in the mud – perhaps they were Forest's, who knew? – and stared into the water. She could see her reflection, twisted by the flowing current. She blinked down at herself, staring into her own eyes; they appeared desperately sad, and she quickly looked away. Instead, she rose her gaze to the Peak; what had Northstar told Stonestar? It had obviously been nothing good, or else the patrol would not have been so hostile. Obviously they believed that she had stolen the apprentice. Why would Northstar—

She broke off the thought; even her usual worrying didn't seem appealing now. And so she simply sat there, staring, as the sun worked its way higher into the sky.

She suddenly blinked, hearing a rustle behind her. She turned quickly, and found Eaglestrike's yellow eyes watching her. He pushed through the brush slowly, coming to sit beside her.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "You've been gone for hours. We figured if you were with Forest you wouldn't be in any trouble, but Ravenwing had something to ask you, so she wanted me to find you." He glanced around. "Where's Forest?"

Her ears flattened. "He's gone." Her dull tone told Eaglestrike that "gone" meant more than temporary absence.

"He left? For good?"

She nodded slowly.

"Silverstreak, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

She glanced towards him quickly, confused. "Your fault?"

His ears flattened. "I knew he was feeling uncomfortable, and I knew he didn't like me much….I should have tried harder, Silverstreak. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "That's not what it was about, Eaglestrike. He said he felt uncomfortable about the Clan, but…that wasn't it. He was unhappy because of me. He felt things that he thought I didn't return…he was afraid I would run away from my friends like I had before, because of him." Her heart twisted as she spoke.

"Then he doesn't know you very well," Eaglestrike meowed. "You wouldn't have run."

"That's just it," she mewed. "I'm afraid I would have."

He gazed at her for a moment, then touched her side with his tail. "No," he said, more quietly, "you wouldn't have. You would never abandon anyone again, not after what it cost you last time. You regretted your decision before, and I know you'd never do it again." He smiled at her. "I've known you for nearly three years now, Silverstreak. I know you wouldn't have run."

_And Forest was jealous of that, the knowing, _she thought sadly. She leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder, and he gave her ear a comforting lick. It was peaceful, for a moment, feeling his warmth against her, knowing that he loved her like his little sister, knowing that he would always love her. It was almost like being a kit again, where any hurt could be fixed by a lick from Whitefrost, where her worst trouble was choosing what to steal from the fresh-kill pile.

_How did this happen? _She wondered. _How did I go from a young, naïve kit, to the future leader of a Clan?_

Neither spoke for several minutes, until Eaglestrike pulled away from her gently. "We need to go back," he meowed, "I'm sure the Clan is worried. They need to know that Forest is gone."

She flinched; speaking the words aloud would make them real, certain, unchangeable.

"And Ravenwing needs to ask you something," he continued, rising to his paws. Silverstreak blinked, then rose to her paws slowly, trailing after him like a lost kit as they padded back to camp.

As the fallen logs that marked the entrance rose before them, she steeled herself, forcing herself to raise her muzzle and remove the sadness and worry from her face. She couldn't be weak, not in front of her waiting Clan.

"Silverstreak!" Ravenwing chirped as she entered, bouncing forward. Shimmer was behind her, excitement gleaming in her eyes. "I had a little chat with Shimmer, and she's interested in becoming our medicine cat. I thought I could be her mentor, and teach her what I know? It wouldn't be everything she needs to learn, of course, but StarClan might help her out in her dreams, maybe….The half moon is tomorrow night, so if we could sneak into that place you told us about – the Pool of Stars? – she might be confirmed as my apprentice." Ravenwing's eyes glowed eagerly.

"Won't Blackmoon be at the Pool of Stars as well?" Silverstreak asked. Ravenwing blinked.

"I hadn't thought of that, I suppose so…but he'll be alone. I don't think he would try anything, since that night is sacred…but if he does, Shimmer and I would be more than happy to take him down." Her eyes gleamed with determination.

"As a meddy, I can still hunt 'n' fight?" Shimmer asked. Ravenwing turned to her, nodding.

"Hunting is still important for medicine cats, and they defend themselves when necessary, although they always try to find peaceful solutions first," she explained, then turned to Silverstreak with a wide smile. "So? What do you think?"

Silverstreak looked at her friend's eager face and Shimmer's glowing eyes, seeing their spirit. Shimmer would make a good medicine cat apprentice, she knew; she liked herbs and was a quick learner, and being in touch with StarClan might help her adjust even more easily to Clan life.

"Yes," she mewed, "I think it's a fine idea. I'll perform the ceremony…and I have an announcement for the Clan."

Ravenwing noticed the sadness in Silverstreak's eyes. "What is it?" She craned her neck, looking over Silverstreak's shoulder. "Where's Forest?"

Ignoring her question, Silverstreak padded forward, leaping into the branches of the birch tree over her den. She padded down the lowest, thickest branch, and yowled, calling her Clan together.

"May all cats old enough to catch their own prey join me underneath the HighBranch for a Clan meeting!"

Buck, Death, and Jag all looked confused, but were quickly shepherded forward by the more experienced warriors.

Silverstreak's ears almost flattened as she looked down at her Clanmates, who watched her expectantly. "Much to my sorrow," she meowed, the slightest tremor in her voice, "Forest is no longer with us. He has chosen to leave the Clan and the forest."

Shock rippled over the Clan, and she could see the questions rising to their lips. She held up her tail, motioning for silence. "Forest has chosen his own path," she mewed, "and his path no longer lies with the Clan. We must all respect his choice, even if it means he is no longer our Clanmate." She bowed her head, and the Clan was silent, taking in the news.

"However," she said finally, "today is not only a day of sorrow. Ravenwing, do you have something you wish to tell the Clan?"

Ravenwing nodded, and the shy she-cat padded forward, standing below the HighBranch to face the Clan.

"As you all know, I am the closest thing this Clan has to a medicine cat," she mewed, voice trembling slightly from the stares upon her. "But I will not be here forever. If this Clan wishes to be strong, it needs a true medicine cat of its own. I have chosen a cat who is fearless and loyal to the Clan. Your next medicine cat will be Shimmer."

Shimmer, beaming with pride, bounced forward.

Silverstreak took a deep breath, allowing her father's memory to sweep over her, remembering his words when he made Ravenwing the medicine cat apprentice. "Shimmer, do you accept the position of medicine cat apprentice?"

"O' course!" Shimmer purred, then blinked. "I mean, I do."

"Then at the half-moon you must travel to the Pool of Stars, to be accepted by StarClan. The good wishes of the Clan will go with you. And from this moment on, until you earn your name as a medicine cat, you will be known as Shimmerpaw."

Shimmerpaw puffed her silver chest out as Ravenwing, Frostfeather, Eaglestrike, Brightfire, Rainsplash, and Reedrush began chanting her name; the chanting grew louder as Death, Buck, and Jag quickly joined in.

Silverstreak waited until the yowling had died down, before springing down from the HighBranch, signaling the end of the ceremony. Ravenwing padded to the medicine den, followed by a strutting Shimmerpaw.

Silverstreak was surprised to find Frostfeather at her side, concern in her green eyes.

"Is Forest really gone?" she whispered. Silverstreak's ears flattened.

"Yes. He made his choice to leave."

"Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Frostfeather's eyes flashed with understanding. "Ah, I see." Her eyes gleamed with pity, and Silverstreak looked away.

"That ceremony was interesting," Reedrush purred, coming up on her other side. "Blizzardkit will be apprenticed in what…four moons? Will his ceremony be the same?"

Eager to get away from Frostfeather's pity, Silverstreak turned towards her. "No. Medicine ceremonies are different from traditional warrior ceremonies; they have different duties and lifestyles, so the ceremonies are different. In normal apprentice ceremonies, mentors don't choose their apprentices, the leaders choose the mentors."

Reedrush nodded slowly. "Who would be Blizzardkit's mentor, do you think?"

Silverstreak blinked at the idea; she hadn't considered it. What would the Clan look like, in four moon's time? Would they still be here? Would they still be alive?

"I don't know," she said quietly, but the idea of her son's ceremony seemed to have left Reedrush feeling satisfied; she padded away to sit with Jag.

Silverstreak turned back to Frostfeather, only to see the white she-cat walking away, returning to the mewls of the kits; Silverstreak saw Blizzardkit's bright blue eyes gleaming as he attempted to rush past Frostfeather, bolting into the camp, only to be blocked by her white paw.

_Forest would have been a good mentor for him. They have so much energy, and he was so good-natured, so…._The thought quickly became painful, and she broke it off. She could feel something rising inside of her – despair? – and feeling almost as though she was being dragged downwards, she realized she couldn't stand to be in the camp any longer. She bolted.

She didn't know where she was going, and perhaps it didn't matter; sucking in breath after breath as she ran through the forest helped to divert her mind, away from his green eyes and crooked smile, away from the pain of him leaving, him running so that she wouldn't have to desert her friends.

_Would I have done it? _She wondered. _Or would he have been wrong? _

There was no answer to the question now, she knew that; Forest had made the choice for her. It no longer mattered what she would or would have done; Forest already had.

She stopped running and panted, leaning against a nearby tree for support. Her muscles burned from lack of use during her time spent recovering, and she let out a quiet hiss.

What could they do about PeakClan now? They had lost another strong warrior, leaving them with precious few left. Their Clan was a small one, and PeakClan would soon find that out if it truly came down to a battle between them. They might be able to hold off the clumsier, unfit warriors for a short time, but eventually PeakClan would crush them.

_Could we meet with them again? _She wondered. _Try to debunk whatever Northstar has told them? Turn them to our way of thinking?_

She let out a sigh; even as she thought it she knew it was useless, hopeless. PeakClan would crush them.

_But we will not leave, _she vowed. _This is our home now. And if we die defending it, at least we'll leave some sort of impact upon PeakClan, perhaps helping them survive against Lion when he comes….We cannot abandon this forest._

_Forest never would have left, not even under the threat of Lion. He kidnapped me to protect it. And yet, now he's gone…for me. _Her eyes widened. _This was his home too, the only place he felt safe. He would have done anything to defend it. And yet he left in a self-imposed exile, probably to never return, so I wouldn't have to abandon my friends._

_He loved me. He loved me more than his home._

She was hit by the realization as if it was an enemy's claw, and she almost staggered. And here it was, just as when she had abandoned her friends, the regret swept over her, so strong it was almost tangible. And then came the longing, the hatred of her own foolishness, the wondering at how she could have been so daft, how she had never seen the way he had loved her. No, she had seen it, but she had been too frightened to deal with it, just as she had been too frightened to deal with Frostfeather's pregnancy.

_He was right, I would have run, _she realized. _And he loved me even with that. And I…._Her thought trembled. _And I loved him too. And I let him get away, let him run, without telling him or trying to stop him…I'm such a coward. _She bowed her head, trembling with regret and sorrow, leaning against the tree and pressing her muzzle against it as if attempting to hide her face. _Oh, StarClan, I'm such a fool! I never have my priorities straight, I never have anything right. I haven't learned from my mistakes at all, and Forest has paid the price…._

The taste of blood flooded her mouth, and she realized she had clenched her jaw so hard she had bitten her tongue. She spat out the mouthful of blood, staring at the wetly glistening leaves on the forest floor.

_What can I do? _She thought hopelessly. _What can I do to make this right? Oh, StarClan, if I could just see him again…._But she couldn't, and she wouldn't, because Forest wasn't coming back. He was never coming back.

"Forest, I'm so sorry," she whispered, as if the breeze could carry her words to him. "StarClan, keep him safe…I'm so sorry."

It took her several minutes before she felt like moving, and even then she didn't want to head back to camp, back to the questions and looks of her Clanmates. She couldn't bear them.

_I'll explore the territory, _she thought, determined to cling on to some sort of action. _I'll make some landmarks for us to remember. Every Clan needs those._

She began padding forward, into the forest, brushing against the trees so she could remember where she had come from.

She walked aimlessly, noting the oddly shaped trees or strange bushes, but nothing seemed to stand out to her until she stumbled upon a clearing. It was large, spacious, covered in moss that had turned brown from the searing cold of leaf-bare. She walked over the thick moss, feeling it almost push back underneath her paws; there was a fallen log near the back, which she sniffed over, but it too had begun to be absorbed by the moss.

_A training ground, for the apprentices? _She wondered. _The moss makes sure the ground is soft, so they won't be easily injured….There is plenty of room here as well._

She glanced over the clearing, noting the bare patches where the moss had not yet touched.

_Perhaps ten minutes' walk from the camp, _she noted, and began walking again.

Her mouth was dry with thirst, and so when she heard the sound of a stream she bounded forward, letting out a yelp of surprise as she found herself falling into what had appeared to be sturdy ground. It was in fact marshy, and she used her claws to pull herself up onto more solid ground. The grass was thick here, up to her shoulders, still faintly green because of its proximity to the water. She peered into the stream; it was thin, but not extremely deep, and moved slowly and leisurely, choosing its way through the thick grass with care. She knelt to lap up the water, wrinkling her nose as the cold stung her tongue.

Turning her head, she could guess that this stream was a branch of the river dividing her territory from PeakClan's. It was as good as anything to follow, and so she did, pushing her way through the thick grass as she made her way down river.

She stopped as the ground began to slope underneath her paws; ahead of her a large, twisted tree seemed to have rooted itself in rock. Drawing nearer, she saw the small stream flowed down the rocks, creating a soft little waterfall streaming down the side. Picking her way down carefully and thankful for the moss that allowed her to get a better grip, she headed down the rocks. She paused at the bottom, and looked back up to the twisted tree; it would make a good landmark as well. Many of the lower branches were thick; it would be a good place for the apprentices to learn how to climb, providing they didn't take a tumble down the waterfall.

She continued to follow the stream; her paws quickly became damp from the slick rocks and spray of the stream as it hit them. She slipped once, her shoulder landing roughly on the bank, but picked herself back up and continued with a wince; the pain only distracted her from her darker thoughts, and she was grateful for it.

The scent of the Thunderpath stung her nose, and she crept forward more cautiously as it came into view, monsters rushing over it and creating a terrible uproar. She blinked in surprise; there appeared to be some sort of tunnel underneath the Thunderpath, through which the stream continued to flow. With a nervous glance at the monsters whizzing overhead, she peered into the tunnel, blinking at the white light on the other end. It was big enough for her to squeeze through, but the thought of the monsters crashing through the Thunderpath and smashing her made her tremble.

Still, the tunnel was quite large to allow the stream to pass through, and she could see what was on the other side; it appeared to be a marshy sort of land, with high reeds and a body of water that was not quite a lake, but not really a pond, either. She could hear the sounds of bird calls over the monsters, and knew that there was probably plenty of prey; in lean times, perhaps the Clan could stray over the Thunderpath – or rather, under – and gather a bit more prey than what their own territory yielded.

Turning away from the Thunderpath, she retreated into the brush once more; the sun was sinking low now, and she knew she would be missed if she did not return to camp. Heading away from the stream, she broke into a run.

The forest sloped downwards slightly, and she skidded to a stop; if she had kept going, she would have plunged over a rocky outcropping and probably broken her neck. Choosing her path carefully, she sprang from green-stained rock to green-stained rock, pausing on one to note her surroundings. Rocks were strewn haphazardly around the area, most of them clumped around the slope downwards. She shivered; this would be a good place for nesting prey, but also an excellent place for hiding snakes.

As she continued, the forest evened out, and she began running again, seeing the brambles that marked the edge of the camp. She raced to the front, leaping through the narrow entrance between the fallen logs. The Clan stared at her, and she realized she looked like a mess, her fur torn from the brambles she'd passed through and covered in burrs and mud from her several stumbles and fall by the stream.

"I went to explore the territory, find a few landmarks we could use," she explained quietly.

"Let me look at you," Ravenwing mewed, "it looks like you have a few scrapes. Shimmerpaw will want to tend to those."

Silverstreak followed her obediently into the medicine den; Shimmerpaw watched her with bright blue eyes.

"What we need?" Shimmerpaw asked eagerly, and Ravenwing paused, glancing Silverstreak over. "A few marigold leaves for the scrapes, and some mousebile; I'm sure she has some ticks now. She doesn't look too bad, although I think she'll need a bath." Ravenwing's eyes glittered at her, but Silverstreak was not amused, still feeling as if she was trapped in some dark tunnel.

Shimmerpaw blinked at her, wrinkling her nose. "Marigold leaves are cool, but mousebile? Gross."

"Apprentices have a lot of duties, and that includes taking care of their Clanmates," Ravenwing reminded her. "Go on, everything should be in the hollow log."

Shimmerpaw grumbled under her breath, leaving the den. Ravenwing began running her paws through Silverstreak's matted fur, looking for scratches and picking out burrs.

"What did you find?" she asked. "Anything besides stuff that sticks to your fur?"

"A few things," Silverstreak answered. "I'll discuss them with the Clan, I suppose."

Ravenwing nodded, turning as Shimmerpaw entered the den, marigold leaves in her mouse and mousebile in one paw.

"Good," Ravenwing purred. "Now, chew up the marigold, while you put mousebile on her ticks. I found a few here, and here," she pointed with her paw. Obediently, Shimmerpaw chewed while wrinkling her nose as she applied the bile. Silverstreak held her breath, disgusted by the stench, as the ticks fell off.

She let out a quiet sigh, feeling the soothing juice of the marigold seep into her fur as Shimmerpaw applied it as well, urged on by Ravenwing's praise.

"That's all," Ravenwing said finally. "Good job, Shimmerpaw, now help me sort these herbs, okay? Berries to one side, leaves to the other, and we'll divide them up more later…."

Silverstreak rose to her paws, seeing that Ravenwing and Shimmerpaw were both distracted by the berries and leaves.

She flexed her muscles, then crouched, springing onto the HighBranch and calling the Clan together, quickly informing them of all she had found.

"This is good news," Eaglestrike purred from below. "A training clearing – shall we call it the Moss Clearing? – will be good when Blizzardkit and Frostfeather's kits start their training."

"That day can't come soon enough," Death grumbled; the nervous tom had attempted to visit Frostfeather several times, but found himself repelled by the kits.

"What should we call the stream? It's an important find as well, and the marsh too," Buck growled.

"Black Stream? Silverstreak said the mud was dark," Reedrush suggested.

"And the rocks? And the tree?"

"The Twisted Tree and GreenRocks?" Frostfeather wondered aloud.

Silverstreak shrugged. "The names sound fine to me, so long as well all know what we're talking about."

Her Clan nodded, and Frostfeather held up her tail. "I've been meaning to ask, what are we going to do with Axel and Demi? They're in the Clan, aren't they? Shouldn't they get Clan names like Blizzardkit did?"

Silverstreak nodded. "They're too young for any sort of ceremony, but they do need new Clan names. Axel and Demi will be….Redkit and Bluekit."

The Clan murmured their approval, and Silverstreak sprang down from the birch tree, feeling exhausted from Forest's leaving, the ceremonies, and her exploration. As the Clan separated to speak amongst itself, she grabbed a mouse from the fresh-kill pile and retreated to her den.

Curling up in the soft moss, she nibbled on the mouse half-heartedly, before giving up on it and resting her head in her paws.

_StarClan, please protect Forest…wherever he is, _she prayed, her eyes drooping closed as exhaustion took over.

. . .

She missed the dawn patrol the next day, but they brought back little news. Silverstreak finished her mouse from the day before, before leaving the camp without a destination in mind. She took in a deep breath of fresh, faintly sweet forest air – was that a hint of ash on the breeze? – before heading down to the river for a drink.

Birds chirped above her brightly in the trees, and she paused to listen; how could other creatures be so happy, when her heart felt as though it was empty, as if she was simply going through the motions rather than living?

She shook her head, attempting to brush the dark thoughts away. Forest had wanted to give her a second chance to be with her Clan. She had to be strong, for them…no matter how much her own heart might ache.

The sound of the river hit her ears, and she opened her mouth, checking for PeakClan scents. Their dawn patrol had been by, as her own had reported, but there were no other scents from the other Clan.

She knelt by the river, lapping up a few drops with her pink tongue, before pausing as the sound of a crackle made her look up. She glanced around cautiously, before drinking again.

PeakClan scent suddenly rushed into her nose, and she looked up, eyes widening in fear as she saw Northstar standing on the opposite bank, his golden eyes watching her coldly. She unsheathed her claws, tensing, knowing that she would be no match for him.

Northstar seemed torn for a moment; his gaze kept flicking from her to the Peak. Then, finally, he let out a quiet growl.

"We are raiding your camp tomorrow, at dawn," he meowed. "Thought you'd want to know."

Before she could react, he was gone, disappearing into the brush on the opposite bank, leaving her reeling from confusion and fear.

**AN: Silverstreak is confused! (She hurt herself in her confusion!)**

**For some of the landmarks, I went to dART (deviantART) and went to the landscape section. There are some absolutely stunning pictures there; I used bits and pieces from several of them. If you are curious or want to get a better mental picture (I suck at description, I know) go to my dART (Prin-Pardus) and click on my Favorites section. They're definitely worth a click (or I wouldn't have bothered ,I'm stingy with my clicks xD). Some of them are also for plans for PeakClan's territory (the one with the big triangle rock and the one with the huge white rocks that are kinda like rectangles).**

**Sorry for the rather shameless padding of this chappy, but I needed some words thrown in, and it seemed about time for the territory to get some real use, doncha think? If I could draw ya a picture of it I would, but all of my "talent" is in writing. :p**


	36. C h a p t e r 35: Forest

**AN: What can I say? When you've got the writing bug, writing is all ya wanna do~**

**Four day weekend helps, tho.**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**35: Forest**

He woke up slowly, stretching and curling his tongue. He stared bleakly ahead of himself, staring into the thick reeds. The night before had been cold, without anyone sleeping next to him, even little Shimmer. And when he woke up, there wasn't a pile of fresh prey waiting for him.

He shook himself. _You lived as a loner for how long, exactly? _He thought. _Living with the Clan made you soft there, but you'll get over it. You're living the life now; you're a loner again. Be happy!_

But he wasn't. In fact, he was fairly sure his whiskers were drooping.

_You did what you had to, _he thought firmly. _She was too afraid…and she might have left the Clan for it. They were your friends, and she was always happiest when she was with them. Not when she was with you. _

But every time he saw her face, her expression right before he disappeared, it felt as if his heart splintered just a little bit more.

He shook himself again as his stomach growled loudly. _You're not going to find prey thinking about her._

He rose to his paws, shaking the mud from his fur, shivering; the marsh was a cold place, especially when you were alone.

He pricked his ears, listening intently to the sounds of the reeds brushing against each other, the marsh water lapping against the dark mud, the red-winged blackbirds chirping brightly to one another.

He fell into a hunter's crouch, slipping forward, pushing his way through the thick reeds as quietly as possible. The sound of the birds grew louder in his ears, and using their song as his guide, he pounced at the faint flicker of red in the stalks. The red-winged blackbird let out a chirp as his claws enclosed it, and he finished it with a swift bite. It wasn't a large meal, being mostly feathers, but it was enough.

He ate quickly, casting furtive glances around himself with each bite – without others to watch for danger with him, he was vulnerable – finally sitting back and licking his whiskers clean as he finished his meal. Without the insistent hunger pangs, his mind felt much more clear.

His thoughts turned towards his future. Always, when he had been in the forest, there had been the knowledge that if he ever tired of loner life he could return home to Mother, and his waiting father. But Buck had brought news of Mother's demise, and his father's own stubborn death; there was no home waiting for him any longer. His ears flattened, and he let out a morose sigh.

_Loner life is the tops…but having a bit of security was always nice, _he thought. _Now I don't even have that. I really am out here on my own this time._

Restlessly, he rose to his paws, turning towards the roaring Thunderpath. For a moment, he wondered if he could somehow jump onto one of the monsters, ride with it wherever it was going, enjoy the feeling of the wind on his face and the rush of exhilaration as the Thunderpath flashed by underneath him. He quickly shook his head; it was a foolish, impossible idea, probably suicidal. And yet, there was something alluring about the power of the monsters, how they could race to wherever they pleased without regard for anyone or anything. That was the freedom he had always craved, until he found Silverstreak.

The thought of her made him bow his head, his heart clenching just a little bit tighter. The wind changed, bringing the filthy scent of the Thunderpath to his nose. Then, his eyes widened, as he caught another scent.

Before he could stop himself he had sprang forwards, following the scent. He raced towards the Thunderpath, stopping in front of the tunnel that led underneath it. He took in a deep breath; there was no denying it. Under the stench of the Thunderpath was Silverstreak's sweet scent.

He peered into the darkness of the tunnel, but could not see her; his heartbeat slowly quieted as he realized the scent was old; she had been here yesterday.

_Did she come looking for me? _He wondered. _I thought I had covered my scent in the mud after I ran off…but did she see my paw prints in the stream and track me here? But why not continue?_

His ears flattened, and he gave his chest a quick lick; wanting to see her would not make her appear. Perhaps it had been chance that had led her here, nothing more and nothing less. She hadn't loved him anyway.

And yet, those eyes, so full of pain as he had vanished into his domain….

He looked away from the tunnel, shaking himself. Thinking about it would only make the pain worse, and he wasn't sure he could stand that.

_So what am I going to do? _He wondered. _The life of a loner is fun, yes, but only when you have something to fall back on. I no longer have Mother or the Clan waiting for me. I'm on my own. A moon ago I would have relished this, but now…I just feel purposeless._

_What am I supposed to do?_

He padded back towards the reeds, finding the flattened area where he had slept; a few feathers were all that remained of his meal. Already the other birds were singing, their fallen comrade swiftly forgotten in the struggle for survival.

_Will I be erased from the Clan's memory so easily? They have pressing matters to deal with, Lion and PeakClan…and Blizzardkit and Frostfeather's kits never knew me. The next generation will have no idea I even existed._

His heart seemed to constrict, and he shook himself again. _I cannot fall into such hopelessness._

He padded through the reeds, towards the water that had collected in the center of the marsh. It was this pool that was responsible for the marsh itself; it led off into a small stream, twisting through the grass and reeds. Without this pool, the marsh and the creatures living within it would not exist.

He stared into it, seeing his reflection in the dark water. The water did not so much as ripple; it was still, eerily so. He could see his eyes glinting back at him, and he tried to give his reflection a heartening smile, but it did not curl up on one side like it did when he was truly happy. His eyes darkened, and the smile faded as he turned his face to the sky.

_What am I supposed to do? _He wondered again. _Spend the rest of my days catching birds, trailing after scents, smiling at my own reflection? I'm half-mad already._

_I wanted to be a nomad when I was younger; Timber and I had so many fights about that. I probably still have the scars. He cared about me, but he wasn't…he didn't understand. And yet, once I found my forest it was like the urge to roam had vanished, like I was tied there._

_But I don't have those ties anymore. Should I become a nomad now? Roam the world, see the sights, visit other forests, other Twolegplaces, other marshes?_

But the idea didn't hold the sweet, seductive promise it had once held, the promise that had caused him to flee Mother in the first place. Its luster had vanished; it now seemed dull, unattractive.

_So what, then? _He thought, digging his claws into the soft, dark mud with frustration. _What am I supposed to do? What is there left to me? I'm not just going to rot out here, so close to Silverstreak!_

A sudden rustle made him turn, claws unsheathed, fur bristling. He opened his mouth, smelling cat mixed with the Twolegplace. _One of the rogues of the city, surely. For the moment, this marsh is mine, until I decide what to do. I can't have trespassers._

With a snarl, he lunged, paws outstretched. He knocked the cat to the ground, pinning him down; the cat stared up at him with wide, frightened amber eyes. Forest blinked in surprise; the cat was young, his blue-gray kit-fluff still barely hanging on in patches.

The cat trembled with fright beneath him, and Forest quickly moved backwards, allowing the tom to rise to his paws. He did not, simply lying there, a terrified look gleaming in his amber eyes.

"Don't hurt me," he whimpered. "I'm just here to hunt!"

Forest blinked slowly, staring at him. "I'm not going to hurt you. Why are you here? What's your name?"

The tom watched him uncertainly, rising to his paws slowly. "My name's Thistle, and I'm hunting."

Forest blinked at him. "I can see you're hunting, Thistle. Who are you hunting for? Cane?"

Thistle looked confused. "Cane? What's that?"

Forest licked his chest thoughtfully. "He's a boss in the city. Do you live there, or in the marsh?"

"We live in the marsh," Thistle meowed, then winced; it was obvious he thought he'd let something valuable slip.

"Who's 'we'?" Forest asked. "Who are you hunting for?"

Thistle glanced around as if help might leap out at any moment, before flattening his ears and staring down at his blue-gray paws. "I'm hunting for my mother."

Forest frowned; Thistle still looked young enough that his mother should be hunting for him. "Why are you hunting for her? Is she injured?"

Thistle licked his nose nervously. "Um, kind of…look, can I just go? Please? I won't hunt on your territory if you don't like it, honest."

"It's not my territory, not yet," Forest meowed. "I'm just a visitor here. I was considering claiming it as my own, but if other cats live here…."

"Not other cats, just me and my mom," Thistle mumbled. "We can leave, if that's what you want."

Forest shook his head. "If you were here first, you're welcome to the territory." He hesitated, then asked, "would you like some help, hunting for your mother?"

Thistle's amber eyes flicked up at him quickly, as if he couldn't believe the offer. Forest gave him a warm smile, and Thistle hesitantly smiled back.

"That would be nice," he said quietly. "My dad promised to teach me, but…." His ears flattened down again. Forest flicked his tail.

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to," he meowed. Thistle shot him a grateful glance, and followed Forest as he padded into the reeds.

"The most important thing about hunting is finding your prey without them finding you," Forest said quietly as he crept through the undergrowth. "You have to be quiet and light on your paws; some prey can feel the vibrations of your steps. Birds are the most numerous thing here, so that's what we're going after."

Thistle blinked. "How do you catch a bird? They can fly."

"True, and their hearing is quite good, but they can't feel you coming," Forest meowed. "You can take heavy steps while sneaking up on birds, so long as you don't make much noise. Birds also have an awful sense of smell, so you don't have to worry about being up or downwind." He opened his mouth, letting the murky scents of the marsh flood in. His ear turned to the left, hearing a call.

"That way," he whispered to Thistle, who crept after him; he knew the young cat was trying to be quiet, but his footsteps seemed to grate against Forest's ears. He held up his tail, signaling for Thistle to stop as they neared the bird, but the young cat didn't understand, plodding forward. Forest nipped his shoulder gently, and Thistle turned with a hiss; before Forest could react the little tom had raked his claws down Forest's muzzle, and crouched, letting out a growl.

The wound stung a little, but it was not deep; Forest simply stared at Thistle. "What was that?" he spat. "I was trying to help!"

His voice alerted the nearby bird, which flew away with a flutter of its brightly-colored wings.

"You bit me!" Thistle growled. "You attacked!"

Forest was almost amused. "If I had attacked you, you'd be bleeding," he pointed out. "Holding up my tail was a signal for you to stop, we were close to the bird. You didn't, so I tried to get your attention by nipping you."

Thistle was watching him distrustfully, but there was a sheepish look in his eyes. His shoulders suddenly slumped.

"I'm sorry," he meowed. "Dad didn't teach me any of this, but he said I should always be aware that other cats, no matter how nice, might just by lying to you and wanting to hurt you…." He stared down at his paws, shame in his amber eyes. Forest sighed, touching him with his tail.

"It's alright. Want to try again?"

. . .

Thistle trotted through the reeds, beaming with pride at the bird clutching in his jaws. It had taken him three tries to get a bird that he could catch, and it was a little on the small side, but Forest had congratulated him anyway.

Forest himself held another bird; this one was for Thistle himself, as the bird Thistle had caught was for his mother.

"We're close," Thistle purred, his voice muffled by feathers as he sprang forward, slipping but not falling in the slick mud.

A space of flattened reeds opened up before them; it was obvious several cats had slept here the night before. Thistle padded forward without fear, dropping the bird and racing towards a still lump of fur that Forest realized must be his muzzle. He nuzzled her shoulder, and she blinked slowly, staring at the two of them.

"Hello, Thistle," she mewed, a note of uncertainty in her voice as she blinked her wide blue eyes at them. "Is this cat another one of our friends?"

Forest glanced at Thistle, confused, but he was smiling. "No, Mom, he's just a cat I found. He helped me catch this bird, look!" Thistle gestured towards one of the birds with pride. The she-cat stared at it, then nodded.

"Is your father coming back?" she asked, and the pride seemed to fade out of Thistle. He cast his eyes downwards.

"No, I didn't see him at all," he meowed quietly. Then, he brightened, pushing the bird towards her. "Eat it," he purred, and turned to Forest. "Forest, this is my mom, Brightflash. Mom, this is Forest."

Brightflash gave him a little nod, and pulled the bird towards her; Forest's eyes widened as he saw the paw was white, and realized that under all the dark mud her pelt was the color of clouds at sunhigh.

Forest dropped his bird for Thistle, and turned to leave, only to see the young tom watching him with amber eyes.

"Are you leaving?" he asked, and Forest nodded. Thistle looked down at his paws. "Could you be persuaded to stay?"

Forest hesitated. "Why?"

"Well, it took me forever to catch this one bird…and I have to feed both of us. And if Dad never comes back…." He trailed off. "We might, um, need some help around here."

Forest was uncertain; he didn't want to stay here and take care of strange Brightflash and little Thistle forever. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life now, but that wasn't it.

Then, something occurred to him. "Would you like to live with other cats?" he asked. "I know a group that has a she-cat about your age, and some younger kits as well."

Thistle's ears pricked. "Where? Are they nice?"

"They're very nice," Forest meowed, and flicked his tail towards the Thunderpath, although it was too far away to see. "It's not very far. You just go through the tunnel under the Thunderpath, and follow the little stream you find there. It'll lead you to a big river. Don't cross the river, but hide on the bank, and you'll find the cats that live on that side. They'll gladly take you in." He paused for a moment. "They live according to a special sort of code, so it might take some getting used to, but you and your mother will be very happy there, I'm sure."

_Until Lion comes, _Forest thought, his conscience needling him; he shook himself. _Silverstreak will keep him safe, and they need all the warriors they can get if things don't work out. He'll be fine._

Thistle's eyes glowed. "That sounds really cool!" he purred, and turned to his mother. "You like that idea, Mom?"

She stared at Forest with glassy blue eyes, and gave a feeble shrug as she nibbled the bird. Thistle smiled at her.

"Are you coming to?" he asked, turning back to Forest. Forest shook his head.

"I used to live with them, but I left for personal reasons," he meowed. "I didn't have a fight with them, or anything. I just needed to leave."

Thistle didn't pry – perhaps he understood more about personal hardship than Forest had thought – and began eating his bird. With a last glance at Brightflash and Thistle eating together, Forest slipped into the reeds.

. . .

Helping the two of them was all well and good, but Forest still had a problem. He couldn't follow the two of them back into Silverstreak's territory, and face her again; he had already made his choice for her, and he couldn't go back on it. Nor did he want to stay in this marsh forever.

_Perhaps I can look for Thistle's father, _he thought. _If they don't find the Clan, they'll be in trouble; for whatever reason, his mother appears to be rather useless. Thistle needs a strong paw to guide him; he seems like a good enough cat, but confused._

_Where would his father have gone? He's not in the marsh, or I would have found him…the city, perhaps?_

Forest shrugged to himself; it was the only idea he had. Opening his mouth to catch the scent of the Thunderpath, he headed towards it; from there it would be easy to follow it into the city.

The sounds of the monsters rushing by made his ears flatten, but he was not afraid; no monster dared venture into the marsh, whose mud waited to pull one of the great beasts down.

He passed the tunnel that led to the stream, and couldn't help but sniff at it hopefully; Silverstreak's scent lingered, but it was stale. With a quiet sigh, he padded away.

. . .

The city smelled differently than he remembered; it was bigger than it had been when he had left. There were more Twolegs milling about, more monsters tearing up the Thunderpath as they raced along. But more Twolegs meant more trash, and more trash meant more stray cats roaming the streets as well. Hopefully one of them was Thistle's father.

He began investigating, darting into every alley and crevice he could find, searching for Thistle's father. He knew that Thistle's father was most likely blue-gray like his son, but other than that he had little to go on. He encountered several cats, but they had no idea who he was talking about. Finally, as the sun began to set, Forest was forced to admit defeat.

_I know absolutely nothing about his father, _he fumed. _How can I possibly find him, if he's even here at all? This was a ridiculous plan. I've walked all over the city today!_

And indeed he had. He could see the Thunderpath that ran to the lake from where he stood; he had crossed nearly the entire city looking for the elusive tom.

_Cane's camp is near here, _he thought, remembering what the others had told him. He shivered at the thought of being captured by the thin, cunning tom.

_He won't be here much longer, though, when Lion comes, _Forest thought. _Unless he and Amber team up like they do against Carmelo, they won't stand a chance…._

Then, something occurred to him, something insane. At first he dismissed it, but the idea would not let him go, wiggling in the back of his mind even as he curled upon a pile of dirty rags to sleep. The idea was still there when he awoke the next morning, and bothered him while he attempted to hunt for his breakfast.

Finally, he acknowledged it, mulling it over as he nibbled at his mouse. Yes, it was insane; there was only the faintest hope that it would actually work. But, Forest had always been a little reckless, one for long shots; it was why he had become a loner, why kidnapping Silverstreak had appeared to be even remotely possible.

_And we all know how that turned out, _he thought wryly, then shook himself. _If this idea works, it could save them. I owe Silverstreak that._

Finishing his mouse, he rose to his paws, and began his quest anew. This time, however, he was not looking for Thistle's mysterious father.

He was looking for Natasha.

He headed the opposite direction, moving into the heart of the city where he knew Natasha lived; after all, both Silverstreak and Northstar had run into her, and later Eaglestrike's group had as well when they adopted little Axel and Demi. But most city dwellers didn't stay in the same place for very long; they tended to move around the city however they pleased, so long as the bosses didn't disapprove. There was a good chance she had already moved somewhere else. Still, her old haunts were his best bet for finding her, or her friend Mitch.

Once again, he was investigating every alley, every crevice. The only cat he saw was a large blue-gray tom rooting through a fallen Twoleg-trash bin.

"Hello," Forest called, and the tom turned, amber eyes glinting. "My name is Forest, and I'm looking for someone. Is there any way that you can help me?"

The tom's eyes narrowed, and he said nothing. Forest plunged onward. "I'm looking for a she-cat named Natasha, and a tom named Mitch," he said. "It's very important. Do you know where they live or hunt? I really need to talk to them, immediately."

The tom seemed to be considering his answer. "Natasha and Mitch live close by," he said finally. "You're looking for the alley over." He jerked his head towards the left, and Forest gave him a smile.

"Thank you," he purred. "What's your name? In case they asked who helped me?"

"Bullet," the tom grunted, turning back towards his trash. Forest gave him a parting nod, and padded out of the alley, racing down the sidewalk as he dodged Twoleg legs. He bolted into the next alley, and was confronted by a scarred, snarling tom.

"Mitch?" Forest asked, keeping the tremble of fear out of his voice.

The tom's green eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Who're you?" he asked, giving Forest a sniff. "That scent smells familiar, underneath the stench of the marsh…."

"Are you one of the forest cats?" a slim she-cat asked, slipping out from behind Mitch. "One of Silverstreak's friends?"

Forest gave a relieved nod. "Yes. My name's Forest."

"Ah, we know about you," Natasha purred, then blinked. "Are Axel and Demi okay? Why are you here?"

"They're fine, I guess, but I need your help," he meowed quickly. "Silverstreak and the others are going to be in trouble soon. There's this big cat named Lion, who's leading a bunch of other cats, and he wants to take revenge on Silverstreak for something her father did. We'd hope that we could forge an alliance with the Clan that already lived in the forest, but…I don't think that's going to happen."

Natasha's ears flattened. "Mitch and I can't fight for you. We try to stay out of forest conflicts, they never seem to end well."

"I'm not asking you to," he replied. "When Lion comes, things are going to get ugly in the city, too. Maybe he'll kill Silverstreak first, or he might target the city, we don't know. But either way, the bosses won't be able to hold him off, not for long. There'll be too many cats to fight."

Natasha and Mitch exchanged glances. "What exactly are you saying?" Mitch asked bluntly.

"Basically, Silverstreak needs the help of the bosses, and it's honestly in their best interests to help her," Forest answered. "I know it sounds crazy, but think about it like Amber and Cane joining together to keep Carmelo down. It's basically the same thing."

"But…forest cats?" Natasha wrinkled her nose. "Amber and Cane don't like forest cats much. Rumor has it a bunch of forest cats near the lake ran the two of them off, moons ago."

_The Kalan? _Forest wondered, but pushed the thought away. "It doesn't matter whether they like them or not, they need our information, and we'll need them in the decisive battle," he said. "It's the only way both groups can survive." He turned to Natasha. "That's why I need your help. You're a she-cat, Amber will listen to you. And Mitch and I can try to convince Cane."

Mitch looked uncomfortable. "Are you certain he's coming? This Lion cat, I mean? Amber and Cane truly hate each other, but if they swallow their pride to form an alliance and Lion doesn't show up…." He trailed off. "It could be ugly for Natasha and myself. We've got a good thing going, here, you know."

Forest blinked slowly; he had been wondering about that. If Amber and Cane hated each other and their opposite genders, how were Natasha and Mitch allowed to stay together?

"Amber and Cane made a little alliance in allowing the two of us to stay together," Natasha explained, seeing his puzzled look. "In exchange for being sort of exempt from their rules, we have to help other cats through the city; Amber and Cane don't like having lost forest cats in their territory. We help them to the lake or to the forest, whichever direction they're headed."

"So if they can do that, they can do this too," Forest said confidently. "At this point, they really don't have much of a choice."

Natasha and Mitch exchanged glances again. "Forest, we need to think about this," Natasha mewed. "We could get into a lot of trouble if this falls through."

Forest hesitated, torn for a moment; he knew his next words would be cruel, but he didn't have much choice. "You found Axel and Demi barely alive, next to their dead mother. You managed to keep them alive, and you chose to give them to the Clan to be taken care of so that they would survive. But if Lion comes and destroys the Clan, do you really think he'll let two kits, that are Clanborn for all he knows, live? He'll kill them like everyone else, and then he'll set his gaze on the city. And Cane and Amber will fall."

Natasha's green eyes were wide with horror, but he wasn't sure if she was worried for the two kits or surprised at how far over the line he had gone. Mitch gave a low growl.

"Get out," he hissed. Forest opened his mouth, but Mitch unsheathed his claws. "Get out!" he snarled, and Forest had no choice but to flee, glancing over his shoulder to see Natasha pressing her nose into Mitch's fur as he gave her a gentle lick.

. . .

_Idiot! _He cursed himself, lying down on the dirty alley floor. _Now neither of them will listen to you. Why did you say that? Why did you hurt them?_

_Because you're hurt, _a little voice at the back of his mind said. _You're in pain because of Silverstreak, and you want everyone else to feel the same. You're selfish._

He shrank away from the thought, pressing his nose against his paws as he glanced up at the dark sky. He let out a quiet sigh and closed his eyes, forcing the thoughts away and slipping into sleep.

He didn't sleep for long. A paw in his side made his eyes spring open, and he found two green eyes glowing down at him.

"Morning," Natasha mewed; Mitch appeared by her side. Forest rose slowly, fearing that they were still angry, but Natasha was smiling, albeit nervously.

"We thought about what you said," the slim she-cat said quietly. "We really don't have much of a choice anymore…we have to do what we can for Cane and Amber's groups, and the forest Clans too. At least then we won't be blamed, if everything goes wrong, right?" She gave a trembling smile.

"What's your plan, exactly?" Mitch asked gruffly. Forest licked his paw and rubbed it over his ear, buying himself some time to think.

"I don't really have one," he said finally, "we just need to convince them that this is their only option. Natasha will have to talk to Amber, and you and I will talk to Cane. They can't know that the other one is meeting with Silverstreak, or you know they won't come."

Mitch looked skeptical. "And when they show up on the battlefield, side by side…?"

"They'll meet before then," Forest decided. "Let's tell them both to show up in the forest on a certain day…a phase of the moon. The new moon is in a few days. They'll both show up in the same place, and it will be impossible for either of them to leave without looking like cowards."

"Does Silverstreak know their coming?" Natasha asked. Forest's ears flattened.

"I'm not in contact with her right now," he said bluntly, and both cats looked surprised. "But you have to trust me. There's a clearing full of moss – I'm sure they've found it by now, judging where I last scented her – and they can meet there. The Clan cats will have some use for it, and they'll find them when they do a patrol, or something…." He trailed off. "Look, it'll work. It has to, we don't have any other choices."

Mitch and Natasha glanced at each other. "If it doesn't, we can always run," Natasha mewed, but Mitch didn't look so sure.

"I'm a city cat at heart," he growled quietly. "I don't think I'd do so well out of it."

Natasha nudged him with her shoulder. "We'll see." She turned to Forest. "We'll do it. Are we leaving today?"

Forest nodded. "The sooner the better."

Natasha touched Mitch's side with her tail. "Meet up back here at sundown," she mewed, before padding away. Mitch watched her, an odd look in his eyes, before turning back to Forest.

"For your sake, I hope you know what you're doing," he growled quietly, green eyes narrowed. Forest gave him a weak smile.

"Me too."

. . .

They padded towards the old warehouse, prey in their jaws; Mitch had a bit of wiggle room when it came to Cane, but Forest did not, and Mitch had explained that tribute would help him gain favor in Cane's eyes.

The guards stiffened as they neared the warehouse; many of them were scarred, perhaps from the fight that had allowed Eaglestrike and the others to escape. Forest glanced at Mitch nervously, but the ragged tom seemed confident.

"'Ello," he meowed, adopting a gruffer tone than the one he used with Natasha. "We're here for Cane."

The guards looked nervous; perhaps they had been the same ones that had allowed Jag into the warehouse, only to have him attack their leader.

"Who're you?" one of the guards, a large black tom, grunted at Forest.

"He's with me," Mitch said, his voice ringing with confidence. "I think I don't come here often, and when I do it's important. So stop asking questions, and allow me to pass." He quietly unsheathed his claws, a warning. The guards looked uneasy.

"I'll go and ask if Cane wants to see him," one of the guards, a thin ginger tabby, volunteered; he clearly wanted to get away if there was to be a fight. He reminded Forest faintly of Death, but the thought made his heart clench and his stomach roll.

They waited tensely for the ginger tabby's return. Finally, he slipped down from one of the broken windows, landing next to his comrades. "Cane wants to see them," he meowed, his voice thin and reedy. Mitch smirked, padding forward, ignoring the growl of the black tom as they passed him.

The light streaming in from the broken windows helped make the dark warehouse seem a bit lighter, but not by much. It was covered in a layer of dust that stirred when any cat moved, dancing in the sunrays cast by the empty windows. Forest's fur prickled with unease, seeing the eyes glowing in the shadows and within the empty boxes. This claustrophobic, dark setting was not the place for one such as himself, used to open air and freedom.

Cane sat atop a pillar of precariously placed boxes, watching his troops contribute to an ever-growing pile of prey, or skulk around in the shadows waiting for a fight. He looked smug, but his eyes flashed as he saw Mitch and Forest.

"Mitch?" he spat, springing down from his perch. "Why are you here? Where is your she-cat friend? And who is this?" He stared at Forest, his lip curling. "He stinks of the forest."

"Natasha didn't want to come because she knows you don't care for her," Mitch said calmly. "This is my, er, friend, Forest. He's come to us with important news." He turned to Forest expectantly, and he swallowed. He took a step forward, dropping his prey at Cane's paws.

"First, a tribute for you," he meowed hesitantly, remembering the words Mitch had told him to say. "I hope that we can have a long-lasting alliance, though our ways of life differ."

Cane's eyes glittered, but he did not spurn the offering, which Forest assumed was a good thing. His amber eyes flicked down to the prey, then back to Forest; he seemed calm. Forest noticed two larger toms creeping forwards from the shadows; they had learned from their mistake with Jag. If Forest attacked, he would be dead in an instant.

"You smell of the cats I captured, those that later escaped," Cane growled. "And yet your scent is still different."

Forest nodded. "I was with them, but I left, although we remain allies," he meowed. "And it is on their behalf that I come to you. You are the strongest in the city; I know that, and so does your sister." Cane's eyes flashed at the mention of his hated sibling, but he said nothing. "But there is another enemy even stronger than you," Forest continued. "His name is Lion, and he seeks revenge against the forest cats."

A pleased smirk curled Cane's muzzle. "I hardly see why I should be concerned for them."

"It's simple. He will attack the city, either before he crushes Silverstreak, or after. He has many more cats than even you, and he is both bloodthirsty and brutal. He killed nine of the former leader's finest cats all at once, then killed the leader himself to get power. He is not a cat that can easily be defeated. And he can't be defeated by you alone."

Cane's eyes narrowed. "Are you proposing an alliance?"

Forest nodded. "Silverstreak wishes to meet with you, at the new moon."

Cane let out a low growl. "How do I know it is not a trap? You've attempted to trap me before."

Forest gave a small shrug. "You can bring as many of your warriors as you need to feel safe, although I'd heard that you were a great and mighty warrior yourself."

Cane let out a quiet purr at the flattery, but his gaze was still sharp. "I will dwell on it," he snapped, and flicked his tail. Forest blinked, ready to argue, but Mitch was roughly pushing him back towards the exit.

"Thank you for speaking to us," Mitch called as Cane sprang back up to his perch. "We shall return tomorrow!"

"He didn't give us an answer," Forest hissed as they left the Twoleg building, angry at being pushed around like a kit.

"Cane likes to dwell on things for a time before saying yes; the fact that he said he would think about it means that he's already made up his mind. It's as good as a yes, but it gives him power to dangle his decision over your head. One wrong move or dangerous word would have made him change his mind." Mitch's green eyes were steely as he hurried down the street. "Hurry up. It's almost nightfall."

. . .

They regrouped with Natasha at the specified meeting place, and this time both cats decided to sleep with Forest; it was easier than having to track him down later. Forest felt a twinge of regret as he thought of Thistle, but he couldn't go looking for the kit's father now, when such a delicate plan hung in the balance.

"Amber's thinking it over, but I think she'll say yes," Natasha mewed as they settled down for the night. "What about you guys?"

"Same," Mitch grunted, curling up beside her, green eyes as watchful as ever. "We're going back tomorrow to talk to Cane."

Natasha yawned, resting her head on her paws. "So long as they both show up without ripping each other open, I think this could really work."

"I hope so," Mitch murmured, and Forest watched as both Mitch and Natasha quickly fell asleep. Forest remained awake, mind buzzing eagerly, unable to rest. He thought of Thistle and Brightflash – had they made it to the Clan? – as well as Thistle's father. Perhaps he would look for him once Cane and Amber had agreed to meet in the forest.

The forest….Silverstreak's face rose in his mind, and he quickly flinched away from it, ignoring her silver face and bright blue eyes, the eyes that always seemed slightly sad, as if she was afraid that no matter what she was doing, it was wrong….

He opened his eyes, and blinked as he saw the moon had changed positions; somehow he had fallen asleep without realizing it, swallowed up in the memory.

_You're pathetic, you know that? _He growled to himself. _What's done is done. You can't change that. You can't go back._

With a sigh, he rested his head on his paws once more, and drifted off to sleep. This time, his dreams were devoid of the slightest flicker of silver.

. . .

_This tribute thing is already getting old, _he growled to himself, following Mitch. The warehouse rose before them, with a different set of guards this time. It appeared they had already been instructed about the two toms, however, as they let them pass without a word.

Cane was waiting for them, his fur groomed and his tail curled around his paws; he probably thought he looked strong, even noble, but any such effect was lost on Mitch and Forest. Forest dropped his tribute, and dipped his head respectfully.

"Have you come to a decision?" he asked. Cane paused for a moment, letting the tension building, before unsheathing his claws. Forest tensed, but Mitch touched his flank with his tail, silently warning him. Cane reached out with one paw, pulling the piece of prey towards him and slitting it open with his sharp claws.

"I have," Cane said idly, licking the blood from his claws. "We will meet with your leader." He rose his chin proudly. "We will side with her against this Lion cat, if such a thing comes to pass."

Relief washed over Forest, but he quickly reminded himself that the battle was not yet won; they were depending on Amber as well. "Thank you," he meowed. "They will be grateful for your help. Silverstreak wishes to meet the night of the new moon, in a clearing in her territory."

Cane's eyes narrowed at the prospect of going into possible enemy territory, but he nodded. "How do we find this clearing?" he asked, stressing "we" as if showing off his numbers.

"When you leave the city, you will find a stream under the Thunderpath. Follow it into the forest, and if your troops span out a bit they will come upon a large clearing of moss. There you wait."

_If you exist, StarClan, please get Silverstreak to that clearing somehow, _he prayed. _It doesn't matter how, just let it happen, and let Amber and Cane join us in our battle!_

_No, _their _battle, _he reminded himself. _It's not mine anymore. I'm not a Clan cat. I never was, really._

Cane's tail flicked. "We'll have to go through my sister's territory to do it…but I relish the challenge of a fight with her." His eyes gleamed brightly. "We will be there, you have my word. He flicked his tail, dismissing them; Forest let out a growl, but Mitch was once again herding him away.

They were barely out of the warehouse before Natasha sprang out at them.

"Amber's going to help!" she purred brightly as they padded down the street. "She's going to meet at the moss clearing on the new moon, just like you said."

Forest let out a loud purr. "Thank you, Natasha, you did very well." He turned to Mitch. "And thank you as well. You were both very helpful, and brave. I hope everything works out for both of you."

Mitch frowned at him, and the three of them paused. "That sounds awfully like a goodbye," Mitch said slowly. Forest's ears lowered slightly.

"Yes," he admitted. "My business here is complete, if Amber and Cane align with Silverstreak as I hope. There's really nothing else here for me to do…and I'd like to move on. For personal reasons."

"Are you coming back? Ever?" Natasha asked. "What about the Clan? Don't you want to know how things turn out?"

"If Silverstreak wins, the Clan stays a Clan," he replied. "If she loses, then I'm sure Lion will spread his influence, and I'll know when that happens. He's probably crazy enough to try and take over everything, so I'll run into him again." He shrugged. "There's no reason for me to stay."

Natasha's eyes gleamed with pity as she watched him. "I'm sorry you have to go," she mewed, then stepped forward and licked his muzzle. "It was nice being with you, for the few days we were." Behind her, Mitch's fur bristled, although she didn't notice.

"Bye," Mitch meowed gruffly. Forest smiled at them both, almost a real, crooked smile.

"Thank you again, for all your help—" He stopped talking, frowning as he scented the breeze. For a moment, he thought he caught the scent of ash, and immediately thought of the cat that had supposedly been guiding Reedrush and Silverstreak. Then, he blinked, realizing that the scent was not that of ash: it was smoke.

Alarm flitted over Natasha and Mitch's faces, and they broke into a run, dashing towards the smell. Forest hesitated, then followed.

The smell grew stronger, and there was a loud wailing sound coming from ahead of them; Forest recognized it as the sound of Twoleg fire-monsters. When he'd been a kit, the house next to Mother's had caught fire, sending nearly a dozen fire-monsters rushing to the scene and terrifying every cat.

His eyes widened in horror as they found the source of the smoke. One of the Twoleg buildings had caught on fire, flames streaming from the windows; as they watched, the building made a cracking sound, and wood from inside clattered downward. Fire-monsters crowded around it, but the blaze was too fierce to stop. Forest watched in horror as the flames spread to the next building, which was packed closely beside it. There were too few fire-monsters and fire-Twolegs to stop the spread of the blaze, even as water flew from the fire-monsters tails. And then, with terror and horror rising within him, Forest saw that the fire was continuing to spread, to the east. It was nearly to the forest

The dry, dry forest that had not had a drop of water in moons and where Silverstreak's Clan slept, oblivious to the coming danger.

**AN: Humm. Usually by now with the end in sight, I know my next project, but I'm still on the fence with this one…I guess I'll have you guys vote eventually. Derp. .**

**Also, I might post some chappies of my Pokémon fic. It's just a side project, something that helps me unwind while I'm working on this; it's much more light-heartened than scary Shattered stuff; it's closer to TR in general feelings of lightness. You wanna see it, or no? **

**Brightflash isn't a Clan cat, but she might be something similar~**

**Sorry about the slowness of this chappy, my familia had a ton of computer-stuff to do this week, and my weekend was kinda rough. But still, it's nice to hear about Cain and Abel—er, I mean, Cane and Amber again, right?**


	37. C h a p t e r 36

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**36**

"Attacking, at dawn? He really said that?" Eaglestrike asked, his yellow eyes wide with disbelief. "Why in StarClan's name would he…?"

"Silverstreak, stop it," Frostfeather snapped. Silverstreak blinked, and realized she had been rubbing her tongue gently over one of her canine teeth; she had injured it during her fight with Northstar, when she had been slammed to the ground and her teeth had knocked together. She had chipped the fang, and it had proved to be irresistible to her tongue; it seemed whenever she thought of Northstar, her tongue managed to find the little chip, in a way that was obvious to anyone watching her.

"Sorry," Silverstreak mewed, then blinked. "What are we going to do, though? Can we trust him?"

"Five minutes ago, I was mad at you for waking me up…and now I'm terrified." Frostfeather's ears flattened. Silverstreak blinked at her three friends, whom she had gathered and told the news of Northstar's message to.

"Everything will be fine, we just need to think this through," Eaglestrike said firmly, and Silverstreak felt a flare of gratefulness for his calm demeanor. "Now, why would Northstar tell us this?"

"He's lying, obviously," Frostfeather spat. "Why else would the flea-bag tell us something like that? By telling us they're attacking tomorrow at dawn, he's ensuring that we'll be awake all night waiting in case they come early. He's just trying to wear us down so we'll be easier to beat."

"But why beat us at all?" Ravenwing asked softly. "PeakClan needs us to beat Lion. Northstar knows this now."

"Maybe he's already resigned to losing?" Frostfeather suggested. "I mean, we all know Northstar would rather rip out his own claws than ally with us. Maybe he's just trying to get the last laugh and ensure our failure before Lion comes and kills everyone? He'd rather have Silverstreak's death at his claws than a stranger's. He'd want to be responsible, as a last act of evil."

"There's one thing we know, and that's Northstar never considered himself to be evil," Eaglestrike said softly. "He was driven by ambition, not evil. If anyone was evil, it was Slaughter."

"And I don't think he wants my death," Silverstreak mewed quietly. Her friends turned to her in surprise.

"You're joking, right?" Frostfeather asked bluntly. "We're talking about the same cat? Northstar, son of the bat-dirt insane Frozenstar? Mister Mean-And-Evil-Guy-Who-Wiped-Out-Our-Clan? That Northstar?"

Silverstreak's ears flattened. "It sounds strange, I know…but after we defeated Toxin, I was completely at his mercy. He could have killed me easily. His apprentice was in no real danger; she had no visible wounds. He could have killed me and then continued to PeakClan. But he didn't. He let me live, and Shimmer too…he seemed different after I told him about Lion. I think he knows an alliance is the only way out."

The others were incredulous. "But if he wanted an alliance, he'd tell Stonestar that," Eaglestrike meowed slowly. "And PeakClan wouldn't be attacking us."

Silverstreak shook her head, frustrated. "I know, it doesn't make any sense…but there was something in his eyes…I don't think Northstar wants to fight us."

"Maybe he told Stonestar the truth – or part of it, without getting himself in trouble – but Stonestar wouldn't listen? PeakClan hates rogues, Fo—we know that," Ravenwing said hastily; Silverstreak flinched at the word Ravenwing had almost said: Forest. Her friends had been careful not to mention him around her, which she was grateful for, but his name hung silently in the air whenever she was with them.

"Stonestar is a new leader," Eaglestrike agreed, his tail touching his mate's flank. "Perhaps he doesn't control his Clan as well as he might like. I can sympathize; when Clans lose their leader, they're thrown into turmoil and it's hard to rally them. Perhaps he's hoping this battle will do that for him."

"So, we agree that there will be a battle tomorrow?" Silverstreak asked, and all three cats nodded together.

"Northstar came here for a reason; maybe it's a trap, maybe not, but I guess we can't ignore it," Frostfeather meowed, her expression showing that she was against her own advice. Her distrust of Northstar ran deep; now she had kits to protect; four of them, and Northstar was jeopardizing their very lives.

"We don't have the numbers PeakClan expects. They're going to bring a lot of cats to compensate, and we're going to be outnumbered," Eaglestrike meowed. "But I believe we can hold them off. Their warriors are lazy and soft; ours are strong and hard-working, loyal to the warrior code. They might even be ready to become warriors, soon. PeakClan doesn't have that. It will take all of us, but with our new warriors, Brightfire and Rainsplash, I believe we can pull it off."

Silverstreak nodded. "Today we need to strengthen our camp," she decided. "The brambles will help, but they can be overcome. If we can find tree branches to block the way…the good thing about our camp is that the entrance is hard to find, and narrow. Only a few PeakClan cats will be able to get in from there."

"And only a few of our warriors can get out," Frostfeather reminded her. "If we win, we can't chase them off the territory for good very easily." She kneaded the ground with her claws, as if already imagining facing an enemy.

"We need to protect the kits, too," Silverstreak decided. "We should blockade the nursery, with a rock or something, leaving a gap for air to get in but too large for an enemy."

"Won't the kits be frightened?" Ravenwing wondered.

"Either you or Reedrush can stay with them," Silverstreak meowed, giving Frostfeather a nod. "Just in case the enemy gets past the rock anyway."

Frostfeather nodded. "I'll do it, and gladly," she growled. "No one is touching my kits."

"Do we tell the Clan now?" Silverstreak asked. Eaglestrike blinked at her.

"That's your decision, Silverstreak. You're the leader." His voice was gentle, but his eyes were stern. "You should have told the Clan first."

She stared at him in surprise. "What? Why?"

"A Clan needs to be united," Eaglestrike said calmly. "Pulling some members away from the rest because you're used to them and know them better means there will be divisions within the Clan. You treat us like we're better than the others, which we're not; they may not have warrior names yet, but they have the hearts of true warriors. Don't disregard that."

Silverstreak felt a flash of hurt; she knew Eaglestrike's words were true, but they felt unfair; she had called them together because they knew the most about Northstar, not solely because she felt safe around them, although she did.

"I'll make the announcement," she mewed softly. Ravenwing and Frostfeather stood to go, but Eaglestrike remained motionless. Ravenwing shot her mate a glance, but he gave her a gentle smile, and the two sisters left the den.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings with that," Eaglestrike said quietly, touching her flank with his tail. "I'm just a bit concerned. I understand we know more about Northstar than any other cat, but they know plenty about PeakClan themselves. We are a Clan, united; you could have just as easily decided on our strategy with the entire Clan than the three of us. You're doing a good job, Silverstreak, and I know it's hard – believe me, I know – but you can't let the Clan think you don't trust them."

Silverstreak dipped her head to him. "I know, Eaglestrike, and thank you."

He hesitated a moment. "Silverstreak, I'm sure you will make me deputy…and right now, Ravenwing holds the position of medicine cat, and Shimmerpaw is her apprentice. You're close to all three of us, and giving us these positions just cements it. Every cat wants to be important to the Clan; every cat wants an opportunity to become more than he or she is, to rise to a higher rank. If those ambitions aren't realized, they sometimes go sour, and that could rip our Clan apart. It's okay if you make me deputy, but make sure the Clan knows that any one of them could be deputy in the future as well. They need to know everyone has a fair chance."

Silverstreak nodded, and Eaglestrike left with a small smile.

Her thoughts were whirling as he left, although they were not just about his words; she was concerned about the coming battle, of course, and her Clanmates feelings, but she had other concerns as well. If there was a battle, sending Ravenwing and Shimmerpaw to the Pool of Stars could be incredibly dangerous. And then, what about her own journey there? She needed her nine lives, before Lion arrived. It might be the only thing tipping the balance in their favor…but now it didn't seem like that would be possible, if they were truly going to war with PeakClan.

_We could lose this very battle, and it would all be over, _she realized. _Everything we've worked for…gone. _Her ears flattened, but she couldn't hide from the Clan any longer. She padded out of the den.

She was greeted by anxious eyes; clearly rumors had spread over the camp about what had warranted Silverstreak dragging her three favorite cats away from their duties. Silently, she sprang onto the HighBranch, glancing over the Clan to make sure everyone was present.

"This morning, I left the Clan early to drink from the river," she said softly. "Northstar was there, waiting for me, and he said that PeakClan is attacking us at dawn tomorrow."

Alarm passed through the Clan like a wildfire; their eyes were wide with shock and fear as they gazed up at her.

"All of PeakClan? Tomorrow?" Reedrush asked anxiously, her tail curling around Blizzardkit, who had crept out of the nursery looking for adventure once again. "What are we going to do?"

"We have no choice but to fight them," Silverstreak meowed, "we cannot flee. However, we can put up defenses. The brambles off plenty of defense, but tree limbs behind them would be even better, harder for the enemy to get in. The entrance to our camp is secure; only one or two cats at a time will be able to enter. Still, having some sort of trap for them would be useful. Does anyone have any ideas?"

"We could put some thorns and stuff," Death suggested. The rest of the Clan turned to blink at him, and his ears flattened. "What?" he asked defensively. "I had a thorn stuck in my paw the other day, and it really, really hurt!"

"It's not such a bad idea," Silverstreak said slowly. "If we could find more brambles elsewhere besides around the edge of the camp, we could put them down where PeakClan will be getting into the camp."

"Having a thorn in your paw is actually surprisingly crippling to many warriors," Ravenwing put in, glancing at Death with an amused gleam in her eyes. "It will certainly catch them off guard, and bewilder them to allow us to attack them."

Silverstreak nodded. "So, branches behind the brambles, and more thorns underneath the entrance. Anything else?"

"They might be trying to wait us out," Buck growled. "We should collect a store of prey so if they try to starve us out, we will be better-fed than they will."

"What about water?"

"Damp moss could help, for a short time, although it would be gone quickly," Ravenwing mewed. "Maybe we'll get lucky and it will rain."

Silverstreak nodded slowly. "Okay, sounds like a plan…the branches will require the strongest cats, since they'll be tough to move. Buck, Jag, Brightfire, you three will handle that. Ravenwing, you're one of our best hunters, so you can hunt with Reedrush. Rainsplash and Eaglestrike can collect the thorns, while Frostfeather and Death collect the wet moss."

Frostfeather shot Death a glance, and he beamed back at her happily. The fur around Frostfeather's shoulders ruffled, but she didn't argue.

"I'll help arrange everything when you all get back," Silverstreak continued, not wanting to appear lazy. The Clan nodded, and she dismissed them with a yowl. She watched with pride as her Clanmates set to work, streaming out of the camp to plunge into the forest.

_I guess I have to watch the kits, then, don't I? _she thought. _That's good, since I haven't been very involved with the kits._

She headed for the nursery, noticing Blizzardkit's shifty eyes as his mother disappeared. She herded him towards the nursery, and he slunk inside with a glance in her direction. Silverstreak peered inside, smiling as she saw the many kits within. Robinkit and Jaykit blinked at her curiously; they were both barely a moon old. Redkit and Bluekit were snuggled together, sleeping, although she was sure they would be hungry very soon.

"Hello," she purred to the kits, laying down with them. "Do you know me?"

Robinkit and Jaykit gave her puzzled looks, but Blizzardkit nodded, nipping at her tail playfully. Silverstreak twitched it at him, tickling his nose, and he sneezed. Silverstreak smiled.

"My name is Silverstreak, I'm a friend of your mothers'," she mewed to the three kits. "I'm the leader of this Clan, where you live. Your mother is helping the Clan with a very important thing."

She wasn't sure if the kits understood, but they blinked at her as if waiting for her to continue. She laid down, blocking the entrance in case Blizzardkit attempted to escape; he seemed more preoccupied with her twitching tail.

"There's going to be a big battle coming," Silverstreak continued in a calm voice; she didn't want to worry the kits, but they would be more terrified later if they didn't know what was going on. "Frostfeather will be in here with you while the rest of us fight. She'll protect you. We're going to put a boulder—a" she flicked her tail towards the entrance, much to Blizzardkit's displeasure, "—right there. It will help keep you safe, but it will be very dark. You aren't afraid of the dark, are you?"

Blizzardkit and Robinkit puffed their chests out defiantly, but Jaykit's whispers seemed to droop a bit. Silverstreak gave him a warm smile.

"Frostfeather will be right there with you," she promised, "and we'll leave a little bitty gap for the light. As long as your mother is there, nothing in the dark can hurt you, understand?"

The three kits all nodded, and Silverstreak smiled. She passed the time with them, allowing them to play with her tail and holding it just out of reach to get them to jump. Their little teeth were sharp when they managed to grab hold, but Silverstreak didn't mind; play was the earliest form of training, and if they would use those sharp little teeth on an enemy someday, then her pain was worth it.

"Silverstreak?" Frostfeather's voice asked, and Silverstreak turned to find her friend blinking at her. "We got the moss you wanted," Frostfeather meowed. Silverstreak's whiskers twitched.

"How was Death?" she asked with a mischievous grin. Frostfeather glared at her.

"If he'd attempted to hit on me again, I'd have clawed your muzzle off," she growled, "but he was…sort of helpful, I guess. Maybe." She gave Silverstreak a fierce look, warning the she-cat not to get the wrong impression, but Silverstreak laughed and stood.

"I was just letting the kits know what would happen, and playing a bit," she meowed, wincing as Blizzardkit managed to get her tail again when she was distracted. "They're very, ah, energetic."

Frostfeather's eyes glittered with pride as she looked down at her kits. "I know, Silverstreak. They're great, aren't they?" Her voice was soft as she laid down and wrapped her tail around her four kits. "I don't regret a thing, you know," Frostfeather meowed, giving Silverstreak a firm look. "Not a single thing."

"I know," Silverstreak mewed, feeling a pang of sadness. "But I do."

. . .

She looked over the camp with pride, as the sun faded into the horizon. They had lined the brambles with sharp branches that the enemy would be tangled up in, and laid thorny vines all along the entrance. Their fresh-kill pile appeared to be missing, but they had actually stored their prey away with the water-soaked moss in a new, smaller storage den, blocked by another boulder that the larger toms had rolled forward. There was another boulder waiting to be moved over the nursery; that would wait until sundown. Reedrush wouldn't be sleeping with Blizzardkit tonight; they couldn't move the boulder quickly enough to let her out the next morning before PeakClan struck.

She turned her head, seeing Buck standing guard near the thorns beneath the entrance. They were guarding the camp in shifts tonight, but short ones; everyone needed their rest, and Silverstreak doubted PeakClan would plunge into the dark woods, or even attempt to climb down the slick Peak in almost total darkness.

"Do you think we're ready?" Eaglestrike asked, coming to sit beside her. Silverstreak gave him a smile.

"As ready as we can be," Silverstreak answered. "I wish we had more cats, though…even just one more…." She trailed off, a pair of bright green eyes flashed in her mind. Eaglestrike nosed her shoulder.

"You can't mourn him forever," Eaglestrike meowed. "He made his choice. Maybe StarClan will guide him back here, maybe they won't, but there's nothing you can do. You can't blame yourself because he wasn't cut out for the life of a warrior, or because he thought you might leave us. What he thought or felt wasn't your fault."

"But I loved him too," Silverstreak whispered. Eaglestrike's eyes widened in surprise, and she glanced at him.

"You…did?" he asked. Silverstreak's ears flattened.

"Is that really so hard to believe?"

Eaglestrike's eyes softened. "You were always _that _she-cat, Silverstreak. I thought you knew."

She shot him a quizzical look, and he explained. "The one that really never shows any interest in toms…the one who never picks up on those that do. I remember one tom who had a crush on you for moons, but you never noticed…he moved on, of course, but you didn't notice him at all. Ravenwing and I used to wonder if you'd ever find someone you really liked, or if you'd just be one of those warriors who completely devoted themselves to the Clan…." He sighed quietly. "I loved BirchClan, you know that, but even I weakened when it came to love. I let Ravenwing give up being medicine cat for me, and I cost BirchClan one of the best medicine cats the Clan had ever seen. Ravenwing and I both knew you would never have done such a thing. Your care for the Clan consumes you, Silverstreak; it's a blessing and a curse, I suppose…." He trailed off. "So…hearing you say you love Forest…it's a bit shocking, I suppose." His eyes darkened. "I'm sorry you lost him. But, if you really love him – the first tom you've ever really _noticed _as being male – then I'm sure he'll come back." His muzzle curled into a smile. "Anyone noticed by you has to be worth something, Silverstreak."

She felt a warm glow in her chest, and she nuzzled his shoulder. "That's what I needed to hear, I think," she mewed. "Thank you, Eaglestrike."

He dipped his head. "I'm always here, Silverstreak." He nodded to the Clan, who was sharing tongues as they waited for the sun to set. "We all are."

Silverstreak looked up towards the sky, staring at the streaks of color splashed across the sky. _Tomorrow, we will be fighting for our lives._

Then, she smiled. _And I know we can win._

. . .

She awoke to a nose touching her flank; she blinked sleepily into Eaglestrike's yellow gaze.

"You wanted me to wake everyone just before dawn," he reminded her, and she nodded.

"Is everyone still in their dens?" she asked, and Eaglestrike nodded again.

Silverstreak had given the order the day before for everyone to remain in their dens until PeakClan attempted to enter the camp. For whatever reason, Northstar had chosen to warn them, but if their Clan was too prepared for the battle it would become obvious to Stonestar that he had a traitor in his ranks. Silverstreak didn't know if Stonestar would suspect Northstar or not, and if Northstar was at least attempting to be peaceful with them, she didn't want him cast out of PeakClan. He was probably concocting some sort of scheme, but as long as that scheme helped keep the Clan alive, she didn't care.

"Thank you," she mewed quietly. Eaglestrike nodded, leaving the den and returning to the warrior den silently. Silverstreak moved closer to the entrance, ears pricked, listening to the sounds of the waking birds. She rested her head on her paws, keeping her eyes firmly on the camp entrance.

The birds suddenly went silent, and she stiffened, resisting the urge to growl. PeakClan was near; the birds knew it, and they were inadvertently warning the Clan. She tensed, unsheathing her claws, ready to sink them into enemy flesh.

She could hear them now, moving through the undergrowth like badgers, and shook her head; did they honestly think they were being stealthy?

"Fall back, Foxclaw," she heard a low voice growl. "We can't charge into—Foxclaw!"

A ginger tom suddenly plunged through the camp entrance, fangs bared and amber eyes wild. He let out a feral snarl as he jumped through the entrance, only to land on the sharp thorns. He let out a yowl of pain, losing his footing and falling with a yowl. His allies, thinking he was in danger, followed only to have their paws impaled on the thorns as well.

The Clan came alive, bursting out of their dens and charging forward with loud snarls; they were on the PeakClan cats in an instant, spitting and hissing. The PeakClan cats were completely bewildered, taken aback by the trap and onslaught.

More cats poured into their camps, stumbling on the thorns or over their Clanmates, and the Clan's camp quickly devolved into chaos. Yowls of pain buffeted Silverstreak's ears as she sank her claws into a slim brown tom with a snarl, thinking he would be easy to scare away. He surprised her by lashing out with his claws wildly, hitting her on the muzzle before a deep bite to his shoulder send him running away looking towards an exit. He couldn't get out through the main exit, but Silverstreak was on his heels, so he forced himself through the tangled brambles and branches, which probably hurt him more than Silverstreak would have. Satisfied, she settled her gaze on her next target.

The first wave of enemy warriors had already mostly fled, from a combination of pain and fear. The next wave was just arriving, and with most of the thorns trampled and broken, they would not be so easily injured.

Silverstreak took a quick second to glance over the battlefield. Eaglestrike and Buck were holding their own; Brightfire and Rainsplash fought together; Ravenwing had her back to the medicine den, where Shimmerpaw was trying to get out to help in the battle; Frostfeather was safely in the nursery with the kits; Death was underneath a large white cat, struggling to fend him off. Silverstreak's eyes narrowed, and she charged forward with a snarl, springing at the white cat and knocking him onto his side. Her eyes widened as she blinked down into a pair of golden eyes.

_Northstar! _She thought, hate surging through her. She dug in her claws, knowing there was nothing that she would like more than to stain his white fur red. She quickly glanced at Death, surprised to see him already on his paws, apparently unharmed, dashing back into the fray. Startled, she looked back down at Northstar. For this split second while she had been debating with herself, Northstar had not moved. He had not kicked her off, dug his claws into her fur, even let loose an insult. He simply stared up at her, stonily. Then, with incredible force, he kicked her stomach, sending her flying off of him. She landed on the ground with a thud, wheezing to catch her breath. She turned quickly, but Northstar was gone; perhaps still fighting, perhaps he had fled, she wasn't sure.

_He's on our side, _she realized with amazement. _He nearly killed me last time we fought; he could have done it again. He should have been able to utterly destroy Death. But, for whatever reason, he did not. He just has to make it look convincing._

She struggled to her paws, only to be knocked down by another PeakClan warrior. She snarled, slashing at the dappled she-cat.

"Northstar didn't finish you, but I will!" the dappled she-cat spat, green eyes glittering madly. Silverstreak raked her claws down the she-cat's stomach, and she let out a hiss of pain as the she-cat returned the favor. Silverstreak attempted to wiggle out of her grasp, only to have the dappled warrior sink her teeth into her shoulder. Silverstreak let out a furious snarl, kicking the she-cat off of her and charging at her, knocking her to the ground without pinning her down and leaving her own stomach open for another attack. The she-cat struggled to her paws, and Silverstreak sprang onto her back, biting her shoulder and ears while digging her claws in to maintain her grasp. The she-cat thrashed wildly, trying to throw her off, finally attempting to roll to the side and crush her. Silverstreak leaped away, slashing at the she-cat's muzzle.

Battered and bloody, the dappled warrior struggled to her paws. "Northstar's a traitor, isn't he?" she spat, her eyes wide with madness and hatred. "He let you go!"

"I think Northstar had more pressing matters to deal with," Silverstreak growled, flicking her tail towards the white warrior, who was actually struggling against both Eaglestrike and Buck. The dappled she-cat's eyes narrowed, watching as Northstar struck, knocking Buck to the ground while raking his claws down Eaglestrike's side.

"Now, get out of here," Silverstreak snarled, "before I finish what I started!"

The dappled she-cat shot Silverstreak a hateful look. "Northstar's a traitor, and I'll prove it!" she hissed, fur bristling, before she turned and fled through the camp entrance. Silverstreak watched her go, eyes narrowed.

_Seems Northstar has at least one enemy in his own Clan, _she thought. _If he doesn't already know, then he will now. I don't think she'll live too long, if she outright challenges him like this._

Fur ruffled, she turned her gaze back to the battlefield. Several PeakClan warriors had finally spotted the nursery, and thinking that Clan kits would be easy to kill, they had moved the boulder. Silverstreak smirked, waiting for Frostfeather's strike.

She was not disappointed. As soon as the boulder had moved enough to let a cat through, a streak of white lightning had darted out of the den, knocking both toms on their backs and scoring long wounds down their stomachs, before springing back into the darkness. The two toms were bewildered at this assault by the hidden white demon, but they were not about to back down. Cautiously, one of them approached, only to recoil with a yowl of pain as Frostfeather's claws narrowly missed his eyes.

Silverstreak saw Frostfeather's green eyes gleaming with the fire of battle; this was Frostfeather's element, her finest skill. Silverstreak knew the kits would be just fine in her capable paws.

But who was leading this raid? Stonestar's dark gray pelt was nowhere to be seen, and she wouldn't think the leader himself would plunge into a raid anyway. Perhaps their deputy was here? Her blue eyes scanned the battlefield, searching for his pale ginger pelt, finally spotting him on top of a thrashing Death.

_The strong opponents are attracted to the weak, _Silverstreak thought ruefully, but she would have thought Death would have fled already; he was not the type for warfare or battles. If he hadn't been afraid of the kits, he would have bolted into the nursery to cower behind Frostfeather.

_Perhaps that's an improvement, _Silverstreak thought, dashing forward and springing at the ginger tom with outstretched claws. Sandpelt let out a hiss of pain, falling backwards. Silverstreak twisted out of the way, glancing towards Death; his fur was a bloody mess as he struggled to his paws.

"Get to Ravenwing's den," she ordered, and with a grateful look Death limped towards the black she-cat, who was still holding back an angry Shimmerpaw.

"More than you bargained for?" Silverstreak asked, whipping back around to face Sandpelt.

"You don't have nearly as many cats as we thought," Sandpelt growled. "This camp is all that is defending you from being completely wiped out!"

"That and your pathetic warriors doing half our work for us," Silverstreak taunted. Sandpelt sprang at her, and she rolled to the side, getting to her paws quickly in case Sandpelt was within striking distance. He sprang at her again, and she quickly flattened herself to the ground, sending him soaring over her.

"Even the tiniest BirchClan kit could dodge that move!" she jeered. Sandpelt let out a yowl of anger, springing again, aiming lower this time. Silverstreak was ready for him. She rose onto her back paws for a split second, digging her claws into Sandpelt's spine as his leap send him flying into her stomach. He knocked her down, but the force of her own strike sent him rolling over her, sprawling on the leaf-dappled ground. He rose to his paws, panting.

"It doesn't matter how many cats you have, if you all fight like this," Silverstreak spat. "You can't beat us."

"PeakClan will not give up their territory!" Sandpelt declared. "We will not submit to you!"

"We haven't killed any of your warriors, because we follow the warrior code ourselves!" Silverstreak meowed. "But if you continue to fight us and refuse to give in, then we will have no other choice but to start taking your warriors down. And as we've just proven, it will be all too easy. Do you really want to risk your warriors' lives for one side of the river?"

Sandpelt's eyes narrowed, but he seemed uncertain. Then, he surprised her by giving a loud yowl. "PeakClan, retreat!" he ordered, holding his ginger tail high as he turned and raced towards the camp entrance. His warriors streamed behind him, bloody and bruised, many limping from thorns or other injuries. Silverstreak watched them leave, waiting until the last warrior had disappeared before letting out a loud yowl of triumph. She sprang onto the HighBranch to get a better view of her Clan; they turned to her with bright eyes, injured but unbroken.

"My Clan, we have defended ourselves against PeakClan!" she yowled. "We have won our first battle!"

The Clan yowled underneath her, celebrating their victory; even Death appeared in the medicine den to give a little howl, before Ravenwing ushered in back inside.

"I want you all to know how proud I am of you," Silverstreak meowed, "how incredibly, incredibly proud of you. We have not been a Clan for very long, but already we are a force to be reckoned with!"

The warriors nudged each other, glancing at one another, pride glimmering in their eyes, and she knew that they truly felt it, the feeling of being in a Clan, of being warriors.

"But our victory over PeakClan will not last forever, and Lion is coming," she continued. "We must fight even more fiercely the next time, and the next, for PeakClan will not rest until they have truly beaten us, or we have truly beaten them. Our Clan must prove that it is stronger…and then we must prove this to Lion as well."

_We still need an alliance with PeakClan, _she thought, _but I fear that is outside of our grasp now. They will not listen to us._

"I wish we could rest today, but we cannot; we must prepare for their next raid," she continued. "I want everyone to report to Ravenwing and Shimmerpaw; they will look you over, and we will split up the duties of the Clan accordingly.

She hesitated, and then smiled. "I want you all to know that I have truly never been prouder of my Clan…and no matter what happens, I know all of you will find your way to StarClan, in the end."

She dipped her head to them, before springing down from the ledge, watching as the Clan headed towards Ravenwing's den. Shimmerpaw's eyes gleamed at the challenge of taking care of so many cats, and Silverstreak smiled; Shimmerpaw had chosen the correct path.

_Now, if only we could have her accepted by StarClan, _Silverstreak thought regretfully. _Hopefully by the next half moon, our conflict will be decided one way or another._

Ravenwing was an efficient worker, especially with Shimmerpaw at her side; once she was finished with the warriors, she managed to capture Silverstreak, dragging her to the medicine den to be taken care of as well.

"I'm the worst off, she says," Death said cheerily as she entered; he was lying on his side, wrapped almost tail to nose in cobwebs. "I fought Northstar! And Sandpelt too!" His golden eyes glittered with pride.

"Northstar didn't hurt you, did he?" Silverstreak asked as she raised one paw for Ravenwing to look over. Death shook his head.

"No, it was weird. He gave me a few scratches, but I think he was waiting for me to hit him…but I was kind of freaking out a bit, I guess. And then you came, which I'm awfully grateful for." He gave her a flirty smile, and Silverstreak rolled her eyes at him.

"You've got a few deep cuts here," Ravenwing meowed, flicking her tail to Shimmerpaw, "but everything seems in order, nothing too serious. You fought off Sandpelt, right?"

Silverstreak nodded. "I threatened the lives of his warriors, actually," she admitted. Ravenwing looked concerned. "I don't want to kill his warriors, but if we have to…I won't let my own die because of it," Silverstreak mewed. Ravenwing nodded.

"The warrior code says we shouldn't kill unless necessary…and this counts as necessary, I believe," the black she-cat meowed. Then, she flicked her tail. "You're all done, Silverstreak, and I'm sure the Clan is waiting for new orders."

Silverstreak nodded, thanking her friend and little Shimmerpaw, before leaving the den.

She sprang onto the HighBranch once more, calling for the Clan's attention.

"We fought off PeakClan partially because of our camp's defense," she meowed, "but that defense has been weakened by the battle. We should repair it, but first I want patrols to make sure PeakClan isn't still lurking around. Eaglestrike, Brightfire, Rainsplash, and Buck, I want you four going downstream and circling around that side of the territory. I'm going to lead my own patrol, with Reedrush, Jag, and Frostfeather." She turned to the two queens. "I'm sorry to pull you away from your kits, but if we encounter any remaining warriors, we'll need all the help we can get."

Frostfeather nodded, eyes glittering. "Believe me, I'd relish the challenge of fighting them again," she purred, and Silverstreak smiled.

"That won't leave anyone in camp," Ravenwing meowed from her den. "Shimmerpaw and I are going to look for some more herbs; the battle taxed our supply a bit, and we need to be ready for the next one."

Silverstreak nodded. "It shouldn't be a problem. If PeakClan is still in our territory, they won't be coming back to our camp where they think they will end up in another battle." The tip of her tail flicked. "If all goes well, our two patrols will intersect at the Thunderpath. Then we'll follow the path of the other patrol, so both patrols make a complete loop; if the PeakClan warriors evade one of our patrols, they'll never suspect the second, and we'll find them."

"W-wait!" Death whimpered from inside the medicine den. "T-that means I'll be here all alone!"

Silverstreak blinked at him, as his dark face appeared in the entrance. "You won't be in any danger, Death."

His golden eyes were wide. "That's what _you _think!" he exclaimed. "I'm going to be all alone in a Clan full of _kits!"_

The Clan was quiet for a moment, staring at him, before erupting into laughter at the terrified expression on his face when confronted with the thought of no one in the camp to defend from the terrible kits. Silverstreak laughed until her stomach ache, feeling the tension and panic from the battle leave her. She sprang down from the HighBranch, and gave the black tom a lick on his shoulder.

"Thanks," she purred to him, whiskers still twitching, before flicking her tail to her patrol and leading them out of the camp.

Death simply looked bewildered.

**AN: Guesses on who our dappled green-eyed has-it-in-for-Northy friend is? :3**


	38. C h a p t e r 37: Death

**AN: I love you goofballs, I really do. I'll go ahead and apologize for making you guys shout things inn class when you have a brainstorm, or create huge lists, or silently cry at the torture I put my characters through (no one mentioned doing that last bit, but I'm sure you all do).**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**37: Death**

His ears flattened as the Clan laughed; he knew they weren't laughing at him, exactly; it was more from the stress of the battle. Still, it stung, especially since they all thought his phobia was so silly.

_Well, it's not! _He thought angrily. _It's not, definitely not. They're so creepy, with those big eyes and their stumbling gaits and the way they mangle the words when they try to talk__…__they're like corpses that came back to live. Tiny, evil, adorable corpses!_

He watched miserably as the Clan left him behind without a second thought. He let out a whimper, his gaze quickly darting to the nursery – the unguarded, open nursery full of tiny demons – and swallowed.

_What if they get out? _He wondered. _What if they all get out and swarm over me? What if they eat me? I have to block the den__…__but I don't want to get too close__…__and Frostfeather would be mad__…__._

He sighed quietly as the beautiful white she-cat filled his mind, with her striking green eyes and thick, luscious fur…oh, the things he could imagine with her…and yet, most of the time he didn't, although he wasn't sure why. Any other she-cat was fair game, sure, but if Frostfeather ever found out about it then she'd rip his ears off…and he had the sinking feeling that she could read minds. So he kept his mind clean when it came to her.

Most of the time.

He licked his whiskers nervously, watching the nursery. How long would it be, until they realized that nothing was holding them back? Until they realized there was nothing stopping them from surging out of the den, towards freedom?

_Maybe I should go over there, and move the boulder so they can't get out, _he thought, but the very thought of facing their beady little eyes made him squirm.

_Everything will be fine, _he told himself. _You just need to relax. You're tense, worried. Just relax, everything will be fine__…__the kits will be too scared to move, after that battle..._

He shivered. _Leaf-bare is so stinking cold. I hate it. _He ruffled his black fur, trying to get warm, crawling forward to move into a sunbeam. He let out a quiet sigh of happiness as the sun warmed his dark fur.

_Black fur is nice, _he thought dreamily. _So nice. I'm very lucky__…__I don't ever want kits, but if I did they'd get my fur and be that much better for it__…__._The thought of fathering kits made his stomach roll, but the sunshine was so lulling that he didn't care. He let out a soft sigh, feeling himself slipping away.

. . .

He wasn't sure how long he slept, or when he first had the niggling sensation that something was wrong. But when Death had that feeling – the slight prickling of his fur, like ants running through his pelt – he knew better than to ignore it. He was a coward, after all, and to be a coward you had to be fast, and to be fast you had to know when to run, and to know when to run, you had to be alert to danger. If there was anything that Death was good at, it was being a coward, which meant that he was always on high alert, even when relaxing in the sunshine.

The prickling in his fur intensified, and his eyes shot open.

A pair of bright blue eyes stared back at him.

Death let out a screech of fright, springing up and away from the curious white kit who stared at him.

"Go away!" Death shouted. "Go! Run! Scat!"

Blizzardkit blinked at him curiously, and to his horror, Death could see Robinkit and Jaykit peering out of the nursery with curious eyes.

_It's just a nightmare, _Death thought. _I just have to close my eyes, and when I open them, I'll be lying in the sunshine, just chilling__…__no danger, no kits, just__…__._

He closed his eyes, but the prickling intensified, and they quickly opened again. To his horror, not only was he not dreaming, but Blizzardkit was closer and Robinkit was out of the nursery entirely.

"G-go away!" Death whimpered. "I-I'll eat you, understand? I'll eat your face off!"

Instead of inspiring terror, the kits seemed to find him funny; Blizzardkit giggled, and Robinkit approached cautiously. With a terrified look, Death fled, retreating into the medicine den.

He cowered there, trembling with fright, the minutes seeming to drag on as he waited for the kits to follow him.

After several tense minutes, it became apparent that the kits had not followed him. At first he was relieved; then dread swept over him as he realized what he had just done: allowed three curious, naïve kits to roam the camp however they wished.

He swallowed, summoning his courage; Reedrush would never forgive him if Blizzardkit was injured, and Frostfeather…he could only imagine her rage. He shuddered, then crept forward, towards the den entrance. He peeked out of the den, glancing around quickly, letting out a whimper as he spotted the kits. They appeared to be sparring, just below the HighBranch. He continued to creep forward, fur crawling as he neared them.

_They aren't hurting each other, _he thought with relief. _Everything should be fine, if they just keep playing and the others get back__…__oh StarClan, please let them come back! I'll never call any other cat besides Frostfeather 'sweets' again, I promise!_

Blizzardkit pinned Robinkit down gleefully, with his brother bouncing eagerly as if awaiting for his own turn to play. Blizzardkit quickly turned towards the small gray kit, and Robinkit was forgotten. She obviously didn't like this; she let out a fierce growl and sprang forward, but Blizzardkit evaded her eagerly. Frustrated, Robinkit backed off to sit at a short distance and watch her brother play with the white kit.

Then, she turned her gaze onto Death, and he felt a chill seep through his fur. She trotted towards him, clearly looking for some attention. Death hurriedly backed away, moving towards the medicine den. Robinkit's short strides couldn't keep up with him, and she stopped, frustrated. Death licked his whiskers anxiously, waiting for her next move.

Robinkit turned away, stumbling back towards the HighBranch. Death let out a sigh of relief, only for his breath to catch as he realized she was bypassing the other kits entirely; the tree was her goal.

_She's watched Silverstreak talk from there, _he realized, _she knows that's where the attention comes from, even though she doesn't realize that's why she's going there. And climbing trees is in her blood__…__._

"Robinkit! Wait!" he yelped, darting forward, only to screech to a stop as Blizzardkit and Jaykit turned towards him curiously. Frozen, Death could only watch as Robinkit unsheathed her claws, digging them into the bark of the tree and pulling herself up.

"Robinkit! Get down right now!" Death ordered, trying to sound authoritative, but couldn't keep the tremor out of his voice.

Robinkit ignored him, struggling towards the HighBranch. Her tiny claws latched into the wood, and her little tail was held straight out to keep her balance.

She reached the branch with a cry of triumph; she now hovered over the camp. For a larger cat, even Shimmerpaw, the drop would not be dangerous. For tiny Robinkit, barely a moon old, it was quite different.

Robinkit let out a yowl as she inched farther down the HighBranch; just as she'd wanted, every eye was now on her. Blizzardkit blinked up at her eagerly, bouncing on his paws. He let out an encouraging mewl, and Robinkit continued to move. Only little Jaykit looked apprehensive.

"R-Robinkit, come d-down," Death whimpered. "Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a mouse on top?"

Robinkit ignored him, moving towards a narrower part of the branch, so that she was directly over Blizzardkit's head. Unhooking her claws from the wood, she stood a little higher and let out a yowl that rang over the camp.

It all happened too quickly; Death couldn't even see what had happened, how Robinkit had slipped. Had she lost her grip? Had the rough breeze pushed her to the side? Had Blizzardkit's answering yowl startled her? It didn't matter. One moment she was perched proudly on the limb; the next, she was lying on the ground limply, whimpering with pain.

"Robinkit!" Death shouted, rushing forward. Blizzardkit and Jaykit rushed to her side, nosing her anxiously; they turned towards Death with pleading eyes, as if asking him to fix everything, to make Robinkit get up again.

"R-Robinkit," Death said again, inching closer. He knew he had to grab her, had to take her to safety, had to usher her to the medicine den. He knew he had to comfort her, lick her, make her feel okay. But he couldn't. Even the thought of touching her made his stomach clench, made the bile rise in his throat, made his legs tremble weakly. The kits gazed up at him, begging, and all he could feel was fear and revulsion.

He fled.

. . .

The sound of the river rose before him, and he stopped on the bank, sides heaving with panic. Why had he come here? He came for some reason, he was sure of that, but what had it been…? His mind was a collection of jumbled thoughts; every time he closed his eyes, he saw little Robinkit lying on the ground.

_The patrol,_ he thought. _The patrol__…__they both left from the river__…__so I have to go upstream or downstream, they'll be circling around soon. I'll find someone!_

He turned, racing downstream as quickly as he could, ignoring the stench of PeakClan on the other side of the river.

He ran farther than he ever had before – and that was saying something, considering how many times he had fled angry toms – as quickly as he could, dark paws churning up the dry ground and leaves.

He could smell the patrol, their scents rising in his nose, and he sprang through the bushes

"Help!" he yelped, and then his eyes widened as he saw which patrol he had found; it was Silverstreak's, the ones who had gone upstream and returned downstream. Frostfeather was staring at him with surprise, then alarm.

"R-Robinkit," he stammered, terrified of the look in her green eyes.

"What did you…? Robinkit!" Frostfeather screeched, racing past him, running towards camp. Death twisted to look over his shoulder, watching her go.

"What's going on? What happened?" Silverstreak demanded, her icy blue eyes narrowed.

"T-the kits got out of the nursery," he stammered. "And then, they were playing by the HighBranch…and Robinkit climbed up…I tried to stop her, but…."

Silverstreak's eyes flashed. "Let's go!" she ordered the rest of the patrol, rushing forward with her feathery tail held high. Death watched them go, trembling.

What would happen to him now?

_The Clan won't take me back, _he thought, legs trembling. _That kit's dead, I just know it, or she's going to die__…__.It'll be my fault, and everyone in the Clan will know it__…__._

He let out a whimper, shaking; he couldn't return to camp, not now. Without knowing where he was going, he broke into another run, dashing into the forest.

The trees and branches wiped by him, brambles scratching him as he ran, but he barely felt them.

Overhead, the sky was darkening, and he sought shelter in a small hollow between two large, mossy rocks. Pausing to take in his surroundings, he realized that he'd made his way to GreenRocks.

He slipped into the crevice, blinking as he realized it was more of a den than anything, completely covered in faint green moss. He curled up inside the little hollow, feeling miserable; after everything his Clan had done for him, he'd let them down in the end.

_I don't deserve a place like that, _he thought. _I wish__…__I wish I could have stayed__…__but they'd never want me back now. Never._

. . .

He dozed off without meaning to, for when he opened his eyes, the first rays of sunlight were pooling at the entrance of the den. He stared at the dappled light, his heart just as heavy as it had been the night before.

_I thought when I was here__…__I thought I had a kind of__…__family. I never stayed anywhere long before__…__no one wanted me before these cats. I was mean to them, but Silverstreak and the others still saved me__…__they thought I was worth something. And I failed them. _His ears flattened. _Frostfeather will never forgive me__…__._She rose in his mind's eye, her white fur shimmering, green eyes bright as she gazed at him. Then, her expression twisted as she snarled, eyes glowing with hatred as she slashed at him with her claws—

He flinched, breaking the thought off. He rested his head on his paws, for once ignoring the rumble in his stomach.

_I've always been useless, even before they kicked me out to fend for myself__…__Mother wouldn't even give me prey when I came back, begging for it, practically starving__…__maybe if Father hadn't been there, she would have, but she always liked the others better. They didn't even give me a real _name. _I'd been hoping to earn my name, one that I could call my own, one that no cat had ever had before__…__but it looks like that will never happen._

_Frostfeather, I'm sorry__…__._

He closed his eyes, feeling the sunlight warming his pelt, but it didn't offer the comfort it usually did. He only felt chilled.

He let his mind drift off, worry hovering on the edge of his mind every moment.

_What do I do now? _He wondered. _Where can I go? Not even the city is safe now, Cane knows who I am__…__the only boss who wouldn't turn me away is Carmelo, and both Cane and amber hate him anyway__…__.What can I do? I think I'm stronger than I was before, a better hunter__…__but that didn't matter in the end, not for Robinkit. I couldn't overcome my own stupid fears to help her. I let everyone down._

_I let everyone down. It doesn't matter where I go. I always disappoint everyone. Why else would everyone cast me out, in the end?_

"Death?"

He opened his eyes with surprise, finding Silverstreak's silver face peering at him through the moss.

"Are you hiding?" she asked. "You need to remember your scent, if you are. You should have rolled in some mud, we'd have never found you then. Tracking is hard in leaf-bare."

Death stared at her uncertainly. "Are you angry with me?" he asked timidly. "Are you going to hurt me? I didn't mean for Robinkit to get hurt. I'll leave the territory, I promise…can you tell Frostfeather I'm sorry? I didn't say it when she was there."

Silverstreak's blue eyes softened. "We understand that you have a fear of kits, Death," she said quietly. "It isn't your fault. Everyone's scared of something."

Death shook his head. "I'm not just scared of them. It's worse than that. It's like…utter terror. Helplessness. I don't even like looking at them. I didn't used to like Shimmerpaw at all. I was scared of her. But when she was older, like six moons…it went away, slowly, the older she got. I can look at her now, although her icy eyes still scare me…but I think that's just her, not my fears. You gave me the responsibility of the kits…and I failed. And Robinkit's dead and it's all my fault."

Silverstreak sighed quietly. "Death, we all knew about your fear…it was my fault for leaving you alone in camp. I should have let one of the queens stay behind, or me myself. Someone else should have been with you. It was foolish of me not to consider the possibility that the kits would attempt to do something like this…I thought they would have been too scared after the battle, but I was wrong. It's just as much my fault as yours…and Death, Robinkit isn't dead."

Death's eyes widened. "She's not?"

Silverstreak shook her head. "We went and found Ravenwing as quickly as we could. Robinkit is going to be alright, Death. Her only major injury is a broken leg, which Ravenwing set. Ravenwing said there might be some damage, but she'll be a warrior in her turn. There's nothing to hold against you."

"Frostfeather won't see it that way."

Silverstreak's ears flattened slightly. "I'm not going to lie…she's angry with you. But it will pass as Robinkit gets better. She'll forgive you eventually, Death; don't worry about that. Now, come on." She flicked her tail, and Death blinked in surprise.

"Y-you're letting me come back?" he stammered. "I'm allowed back into the Clan?"

Silverstreak smiled. "Of course, Death. You're one of us now, and you've proven yourself in the battle…besides, you're injured. You wouldn't last long on your own."

Death looked down on himself and noticed with surprise that several of his wounds had reopened, making his dark fur shimmer with blood. He'd barely noticed, consumed by his own panic and dark thoughts.

"Okay," he said slowly, rising to his paws and padded out of the spongy moss tunnel. Silverstreak touched his side with her tail.

"Death, I don't think you understand the Clan. There's nothing you could do that would make us exile you, understand? You're one of us, and you always will be, until the day you die. That's what a Clan is all about; trusting and taking care of each other. The others know this; they'll welcome you in just as before. Okay? There's nothing to be scared of. I don't want you to ever think you're unwanted."

Death flushed underneath his fur, touched by her words; they were exactly what he had always dreamed of hearing – besides "I love you," but he doubted he'd ever hear that, from anyone.

Silently, he followed Silverstreak as the two of them padded back to camp.

. . .

The camp was eerily quiet as he entered; all eyes were upon him as he slunk into the camp. Silverstreak hesitated, motioning for him to stop. Ravenwing appeared in the medicine den, trotting towards him with cobwebs in her jaws.

"It would be best to do this in the warrior den," she said softly, and Death knew why; little Robinkit and Frostfeather were in the medicine den. Mutely, he followed her, lying down as she patched his reopened wounds.

"There," she said finally, sitting back. "Do you feel okay? I can bring you a poppy seed for the pain…?"

Death shook his head. "I'm fine. Thank you."

She seemed a bit taken aback by his short response; while it was true that Death rarely flirted with her – not around powerful Eaglestrike, anyway – it wasn't like him to be quiet or withdrawn. He gave her a small smile, and she left the den.

Moments later, a shadow fell over the entrance.

"Death?" Buck growled, and Death's ears pricked. Of all the males in the Clan, Buck was the only one that Death spoke to. Eaglestrike and Jag had both regarded him as an oddity, almost a threat, and Death was timid around Brightfire; Brightfire was the father of Frostfeather's kits, after all. He wouldn't call his relationship with Buck a friendship, exactly, but they were a little more than just Clanmates.

"You alright?" the tom asked gruffly, moving into the den to stare at Death. Death gave him a little nod. Buck's eyes narrowed. "I hope you aren't moping," he growled. "You aren't the one with the broken leg."

Death's ears flattened; he could see that Buck was warming up to one of his infamous lectures that always seemed to be directed at Death.

"Are you the mouse or the hunter?" Buck demanded. Inwardly, Death felt like the mouse, but he mewed,

"Hunter."

Buck nodded. "That's what I thought. Now, does the hunter just lie around hoping for his prey to come to him? Does he think the mouse will flop right into his paws? Of course not. The Clan starves if the hunter just waits around. Frostfeather is that mouse, Death. And you're an incredibly bad hunter."

Death's ears drooped, but Buck was finished. "Still, if there's even the slightest chance that the hunter can get the mouse, shouldn't he at least try? Frostfeather isn't going to be impressed by you lying around moaning about how awful you are. Yes, Robinkit was injured partially because of you…but Frostfeather will get over it eventually. Change is the only constant; she can't hate you forever. But this time, try thinking like the mouse, instead of the hunter. Okay?"

Death blinked slowly; Buck's words seemed to have gone in one ear and out the other. The mouse-hunter metaphor had made sense at first, but how was he supposed to be the mouse? He had no idea what went on inside Frostfeather's head, and the idea of that honestly scared him. He didn't want to think about what she thought about.

"Frostfeather enjoys bravery," Buck meowed, seeing his message wasn't getting through. "She enjoys courage and danger. Why else would she go after a tom like Brightfire? That's a lot to compete with. But apparently she liked the quiet, compassionate kind too, like Jaywing, Jaykit's father. You don't offer either of those to her right now, and that's why she's not interested…in addition to the whole Robinkit-situation. You can't just charge in and expect her to like you. These things take time. Got it?"

Death nodded slowly. Satisfied, Buck gave him a touch with his tail, before leaving the den as well.

_I have to be brave and dangerous__…__but compassionate too? _Death wondered. _That sounds like__…__a lot of work. And really hard. I'm not very dangerous__…__I couldn't even beat a kit in a fight. And compassionate? Well__…__._

_But Buck thinks I have a chance, right? _He latched onto the hope. _He wouldn't offer advice to a hopeless case__…__unless he just wants me to contribute to the Clan again__…__.Either way, though, he does have a point. _His resolve deepened. _I've got to be better than Brightfire and Jaywing combined. And I will be! Got that, Frostfeather? I'm going to be the mouse!_

Feeling thoroughly exhausted even by the prospect, he quickly curled up into a ball and went to sleep.

. . .

His fur prickled. It was barely noticeable at first, but it quickly became stronger, interrupting his dreams so that instead of curled up in Frostfeather's soft fur, he was instead lying on top of an ant's nest.

Death came awake with a jolt, the prickling intensifying. His head rose, and he frowned; he had slept the rest of the day away and the night as well.

_I'm not doing a very good job of being the hunter being the mouse, _he thought, but surely that wasn't what had woke him up. Frowning, he licked his whiskers, glancing around him; oddly, the others were not awake yet.

_PeakClan won't attack us again so soon, _he realized, _so the Clan must be taking a little break to recuperate so they'll be stronger when PeakClan comes again._

_This sounds like my thing__…__so why aren't I asleep?_

Frowning, he padded into the open air, taking a deep breath and feeling the sun warm his pelt. Then, he frowned, sniffing the air again. What was that on the breeze?

_Probably nothing, _he told himself. _Nothing at all. But maybe I could hunt, or something? I doubt Frostfeather would eat anything if she knew it came from me__…__but if I could get someone else to deliver it__…__.Or maybe I could offer it to her in a dangerous but compassionate way?_

Heartened by the thought, he headed for the camp entrance, climbing through it slowly so as to not re-reopen his wounds.

He strolled through the forest absent-mindedly, forgetting his pursuit of prey as he took in the scents of the forest. There was that strange scent again, on the breeze; for some reason it reminded him of the Twolegplace, although he wasn't sure why. Something about their monsters….Puzzled, he turned to follow the scent, heading towards the Twolegplace.

He was near GreenRocks again, padding up the gentle slope to follow the scent, which was growing steadily stronger. His eyes widened in shock and horror as he reached the top, and he remembered what the scent was.

Smoke.

A raging inferno was burning before his very eyes, moving quickly through the forest even as he stared at it. It appeared to be coming from the Twolegplace; he could hear the wail of their fire-monsters in the distance.

He was frozen, until he realized that not only was the fire moving quickly, it was moving quickly towards _him. _And behind him, the camp.

Instantly, Death turned, racing back down the slope. He stumbled as he neared the bottom, rolling the last few feet and reopening a wound on his shoulder. He scrambled back to his paws, but the fall and reopened injury slowed him down. He could hear the fire behind him, crackling as it burned, and he imagined it right on his heels, although he couldn't turn to look. The smoke billowed forwards, choking him, almost calling him to stumble again.

He burst into camp, ignoring the brambles and branches blocking his way.

"Everyone!" he wheezed, lungs scarred by the thick smoke. "Wake up! Fire! FIRE!"

Instantly, the camp was alive, as the smoke grew stronger. There was a sudden, horrible sound, and a flaming tree collapsed barely two tail-lengths away from Death; it was an old, rotted oak tree near the camp. Fire sprang from its branches towards the brambles and trees, devouring them like a soulless beast.

The camp was ablaze.

Cats instantly streamed out of the den, milling around in confusion and fear. Frostfeather appeared in the nursery, Jaykit clutched in her jaws, panic on her face.

"Everyone!" Silverstreak yowled, straining to be heard. "Towards the river! The river is our only hope! Everyone, run!"

The Clan turned, lunging as one towards the narrow entrance, some going through the entrance, some leaping over the logs altogether. Death's gaze darted around the camp, searching again for Frostfeather in the confusion.

He spotted her crouched near the medicine den; she was setting Jaykit down, preparing to spring into the medicine den itself; it had been close to the blazing log, and had started to burn.

_Are Ravenwing and Shimmerpaw inside? _Death wondered, but the two medicine cats had not shown themselves at all; they must have been out collecting herbs early.

_Robinkit! _Death realized. _She's going into the medicine den for Robinkit!_

Panic and horror rose inside of Death as he watched the white medicine cat prepare herself to leap into the flames.

Death was hardly aware of what was happening; all he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears, as a sudden resolve gripped him, burning as brightly with the fire. Before he knew what was happening, he was running, then jumping, knocking Frostfeather to the ground. She spat at him, confused, but there was nothing he could do; before she could react he was on his paws, tensing to spring. And then he leaped into the entrance of the medicine den, even as the fire licked the edges of the entrance.

Smoke clouded his vision, making it impossible to see; he choked on it, wheezing. Dimly, he heard Robinkit's thin voice, crying out for help, begging for her mother. He stumbled forward, feeling lightheaded as the smoke burned his throat. Robinkit's mewls grew louder, until he saw her.

For a moment, he was immobile, staring at the tiny ginger scrap of fur. Just outside, her mother waited anxiously to see whether or not her daughter would live. Death thought of Frostfeather, and let out a hiss.

_Dangerous! _He thought. There was a crashing sound, although he didn't know where it was coughing from. Coughs wracked Robinkit's frail body, and Death knew it was now or never. Closing his eyes, he struck.

Robinkit let out a yelp as Death's teeth wrapped around her back; he adjusted his grip, holding her as he would a mouse.

_Just a piece of prey, _he thought, blocking the image of Robinkit from his mind as he turned, trying to find the entrance. _Just a piece of prey. Just a mouse. A big, juicy mouse! _He tensed to spring again, leaping through the smoke. Light billowed before him, and he raced towards it, out of the den. Behind him he heard another crackling sound, as a burning branch fell where he had just been moments ago.

He refused to look at the kit in his jaws, focusing on Frostfeather's wide-eyed gaze.

"Go!" he hissed, rasping through kit-fur and the sting of smoke. Frostfeather grabbed her son in her jaws, running towards the entrance; Death followed on her heels, running as their camp burned.

The fire was still following them, and Death strained to outrun it.

_Piece of prey, _he thought, repeating it in his mind._ Just a piece of prey. Big mouse. Big juicy mouse. Frostfeather will love it. She'll share it with you. Just a piece of prey. _

The sound of rushing water greeted his ears, and without stopping, Death leaped. He and Frostfeather sailed over the river, shrunken by the lack of rain. Death's leap was weak because of his shoulder; his front paws managed to grab the other bank, but his hind paws did not. He strained, trying to pull himself up onto the boulder, feeling his grip weaken. He felt himself begin to slip, only to hiss as strong jaws grabbed his scruff and pulled him up onto the rock.

He rose his head, gazing at the smoke-stained faces of his Clan. They were all there, even Ravenwing and Shimmerpaw, who were trembling.

"Are they the last?" Silverstreak demanded, her gaze sweeping over the group. Small nods met her eyes; the Clan was scared, some shaking; all of their eyes were glazed by fear.

Silverstreak whipped her muzzle towards their burning forest. Sorrow gleamed in her blue eyes, before she pulled herself together.

"The river isn't enough to stop the fire," she shouted, breaking their silent shock. "It's too low. There's only one safe place; the Pool of Stars."

Her sides were heaving from the run. "Frostfeather, Reedrush, Ravenwing, Death, take the kits and Shimmerpaw there. The rest of you…." She took a moment to cough, the rough smoke choking her voice. "The rest of you," she rasped, "make your choice. You can follow them to the safety of the pool if you like. But we all know it only takes one ember…one tiny ember to reach the Peak, and PeakClan is lost. I can't let them die. They might not be aware of the fire…or they might try to stay there and hope that they're safe. I'm not going to let that happen. You all can go to the Pool of Stars, or come with me to help PeakClan. It's your choice, and I will not think worse of any of you for choosing safety over PeakClan."

Her icy gaze swept over them all. Then, Eaglestrike took a step forward.

"I'll help," he croaked. There was a moment of silence, before Buck stepped forward as well.

"As will I."

"As will we," Brightfire and Rainsplash mewed.

"And I," Jag growled, glancing at Reedrush. She gave him a tense nod.

Silverstreak flicked her tail. "Okay. Let's hurry, before it's too late!" She took off in a run, racing towards the Peak, her loyal warriors following on her heels. Ravenwing watched Silverstreak go, before turning to the others.

"We must protect the kits," she mewed. "Come on!" Ravenwing raced towards the waterfall; heaving himself to his paws, Death followed, the piece of prey dangling in his jaws limply.

The pounding waterfall made his legs tremble, but they had no choice. Ravenwing seemed to disappear behind the water; Shimmerpaw followed, and as they neared, Death spotted the small ledge they were to follow. He walked behind Frostfeather, keeping his gaze locked onto her fluffy white tail, focusing on it and only it. Nothing else mattered, so long as he followed it to safety.

Frostfeather squeezed into a narrow tunnel in the rock, and Death followed, embracing the darkness. He heard the lap of water ahead of them, and blinked as they came into the cavern in which the Pool of Stars lapped against the stone walls. Death stepped onto the cold stone, feeling a chill.

Ravenwing and the others huddled on the dry rock, watching the light dance on the water. The waterfall drowned out any sounds of the fire. Frostfeather sat Jaykit down gently, turning to Death with disbelief in her eyes.

"Death," she mewed, but Death thrust Robinkit at her.

"Take it, or I might drop it," Death mewed, his trembling voice betraying the strain he was under. Frostfeather quickly took little Robinkit. Seeing what he had carried to safety, Death's legs felt weak. He staggered away, collapsing on the hard stone and retching, even though his stomach held nothing to offer. He laid there, panting heavily, as his courage left him, leaving him as the trembling coward that he was

"Death?"

He turned, seeing Frostfeather's green eyes glimmering at him in the darkness; she must have passed Robinkit onto Ravenwing. He stared at her, swallowing, tasting bile.

"You saved her," Frostfeather whispered; she seemed just as incredulous as Death. "You saved her from the fire."

The thought made the revulsion well up again, and Frostfeather took a step back as Death's body arched in another heave. She waited until he was finished, before drawing nearer.

"That was…very brave of you," Frostfeather said slowly. "Leaping into the fire like that, for…her. You could have died."

"You were going to do it," Death rasped, his voice rough even to his own ears. The taste of smoke and bile seemed to coat his entire mouth and throat. "Couldn't let that happen, now could I?" He attempted to crack a smile. "All the smoke and ash would have ruined your fur."

Frostfeather stared at him; she seemed unsure whether to laugh or shake her head at his foolishness. She settled for twitching her whiskers at him. "You surprised me," she said finally. "I didn't think you had that in you."

Death gave her a feeble shrug; Frostfeather could obviously see that he was exhausted, beyond any more words. Then, she took another step forward, and her sweet scent washed over him, sweeping the smoke away. Her tongue rasped against his ear, sending a thrill of electricity racing through his paws, making even his whiskers tingle. He heard her pad away, her steps soft against the stone, as she rejoined her sister and the others.

In the midst of the blazing inferno, he'd never felt so happy.

**AN: The Clan probably won't be laughing at Death's kitty troubles ever again****…****but on the upside, gotta use that moss tunnel, which was nice. C:**

**What is it with me and leg wounds? Honestly?**


	39. C h a p t e r 38

**AN: I'm proud that you're proud that you're my goofballs. If FF allowed those little bracket things, I'd make you guys a heart but I can't. Sigh.**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**38**

They raced up the slick rock together, as one, panting as the drifting smoke reached them. StarClan must have been guiding their paws, for they did not slip or stumble as they made their way to the top. Silverstreak paused as she reached the top of the Peak and the edge of the woods, waiting for her warriors to group around her.

"Whatever happens, know that you are all brave for coming with me," she mewed to them, dipping her head. "You are the best Clan I could ever hope for."

"And you're the best leader," Brightfire meowed, amber eyes glinting. Silverstreak smiled, then turned, running into the forest. They'd crossed a line, now, by invading the Pool of Stars and PeakClan's camp. She just hoped they were making the right choice.

_When there's only one path you can pursue, it has to be the right choice, _she thought. _We can't let them die._

She burst into the camp, and the shock on every PeakClan face was evident. At first they were stunned, then angry, advancing with snarling faces and unsheathed claws.

"Wait!" Silverstreak ordered, her warriors gathering around her. "We aren't here to fight you!"

What might have been relief flitted over their faces; their wounds were still healing and the memory of her Clan's claws was fresh on their minds.

Stonestar appeared in his den, snarling. "What do you want, forest cats?" he hissed. "Your home is burning, so you think to seize ours?"

"No," Silverstreak meowed, forcing herself to keep calm despite the hostility of the Clan. "We're here to save you. The fire will reach the Peak, whether you believe that to be possible or not. The river is low; there is nothing to stop it. Both our territories will be consumed."

Stonestar's eyes narrowed. "It only takes one ember," Silverstreak continued. "The forest is dry, thirsty. It cannot fight against this fire."

"Then where are we supposed to hide?" one of the warriors, a small white tom with ginger patches, sneered. "If the forest burns, we all die. You're trying to trick us."

"There's one place where no fire can touch us," Silverstreak said. "One place it cannot reach." She turned towards the medicine den, and her eyes met Blackmoon's. He stared at her, then blinked as he realized what she meant.

"Silverstreak's cats have taken refuge in the Pool of Stars," he said quietly. Stonestar's head whipped towards him, then back to Silverstreak, a snarl building in his throat.

"You dare to cower in our holiest place?" He hissed, unsheathing his claws. Silverstreak swallowed, trying to hide her fear.

"It's the only place safe from the fire, and if your Clan is wise, you will come with us," she mewed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flicker of movement; golden eyes gleamed at her. Northstar.

He was standing in the entrance to the nursery, a dappled she-cat at his side. Instantly, Silverstreak knew this she-cat was the one he had saved, the one he had used to worm his way into PeakClan.

"Although I hate to admit it, Silverstreak is correct," Northstar blinked. Silverstreak couldn't help but be surprised; it was still incredibly unnerving to think that Northstar was on her side.

_Not for long, _she thought. _If we can manage to defeat Lion and both survive the battle, he'll be trying to kill me again, and seize power. I wouldn't be surprised if he's already plotting my death; wouldn't it be convenient for him if Lion finished me off?_

"Where I lived, there was a great fire," Northstar meowed. "My Clan was not a Clan then, merely many rogues living together. They lived in the mountains, but during greenleaf the forest was their home because of its plentiful prey. There was a terrible fire one year; many cats died. Some fled to the lower parts of the mountains, thinking they would be safe, but even the mountains could not protect them from the fire. It raged for days on end, until the rains came. Only those who had retreated into the safety of the higher mountain tunnels were alive. Most of the forest was destroyed, and so the rogues stayed there, in the mountains, thinking the forest would never grow back.

"New cats came, Clan cats, and they settled in the forest. They were mocked and ridiculed by the mountain cats, who were convinced that the forest would never recover…but it did, in time, and the mountain cats were left without their bountiful greenleaf hunting grounds. That wound festered for many moons, but the forest cats received their comeuppance." He was not looking at her, but he didn't have to; she knew the words were meant for her ears.

_Is that the history of my Clan, right there? _She wondered._ I knew we came from somewhere else, somewhere far away. I knew we settled the forest…but did we truly take it from the mountain cats? I see why they would be angry, and how they might think it was stolen from them…but at the same time, wasn't it there fault as well?_

"Your point?" Stonestar snapped.

"The cats who believed themselves to be safe were the ones that perished," Northstar growled. "Smarter cats know they are never truly safe, but they can take the measures that will make them saf_er._ And if you wish to maintain your grip on this forest, isn't it wisest to make sure you are alive to do it?"

"Please, we must act quickly," Silverstreak meowed. "We mean you no harm, we're only here to help. You have many injured, many who will need assistance getting down the Peak quickly. We are here for that." She turned to the slim she-cat, Sparrowfeather. "You saved my life once, on the Peak. I'm here to return that favor to as many cats as I can."

"Do you honestly think we can stay in the Pool of Stars together?" Stonestar growled.

"There is room for all of us," Silverstreak said, "and we need each other."

Stonestar was hesitant now, weighing his options. Behind them, Silverstreak could almost hear the roar of the fire. If they didn't act quickly, it would be too late.

Finally, Stonestar dipped his head. "I cannot risk the lives of my Clan. PeakClan, we must go to the Pool of Stars. Whether or not we share it with the rogues remains to be seen."

The Clan watched Stonestar, and for a moment Silverstreak feared they were going to disobey and stay out of pure stubbornness. Then, the dappled she-cat next to Northstar mewed,

"I'll need help carrying the kits. There will be one left over between the three of us."

Blackmoon padded forward, and Silverstreak assumed that he was the third she spoke of. Northstar disappeared back inside with Blackmoon and the she-cat, coming back with a golden kit in his jaws. The dappled she-cat held a little tabby, while Blackmoon had a small silver kit.

"I'll take the fourth," Buck offered, striding forward; he had saved a kit from his own Clan, too, Silverstreak reflected. Jag and Buck had both immediately gone into the nursery when Death had come back with reports of the fire; the two toms had grabbed little Redkit and Bluekit, saving them both from the fire. Buck had sworn that Frostfeather had been right behind him, but when the Clan had reached the river, the two of them were nowhere to be seen. Buck had wanted to return to the camp and find Frostfeather and Death, but it had been impossible; if Death and Frostfeather were alive, they would make it themselves, somehow; if they were dead, then Buck would die as well.

Ravenwing had been beside herself; she still carried the herbs that she and Shimmerpaw had been searching for.

"By the time we realized there was a fire, we couldn't get back to camp," she kept saying, pacing. "If we could have, maybe we could have warned everyone…oh, Frostfeather…!"

Her expression had gone from guilt to fear in a split second, as Frostfeather and Death appeared, kits – of all things, for Death to be holding! – in their jaws.

Silverstreak shook herself, returning to the present. "And your injured?" she asked. "We'll help them as well."

"There are many," Stonestar growled, but there was little anger in his voice; it was PeakClan, after all, who had started the raid.

Silverstreak nodded, leading her remaining warriors towards the medicine den; she knew it well, after saving Forest.

Northstar's apprentice blinked at her curiously as she entered.

"You again?"she asked, and blinked. "What are you here for?"

"We're here to help," Silverstreak answered.

A ginger tom that she recognized as Foxclaw – allegedly one of the apprentices that had murdered Forest's friend – snarled at them.

"I don't need your help, and neither does she," he hissed, struggling to his feet; his paws were all four wrapped in cobwebs; he had been the first to fall into their thorny trap.

"There's a fire coming, and we don't have much time," Silverstreak snapped.

"We need their help, honey," a cream she-cat mewed, coming up from behind Silverstreak, pushing past her to nuzzle her mate. "Sleekfoot just went out to have a look, she says that the fire is right up on the river, almost. If the wind changes, it'll make it over."

"I'm not going anywhere. It's probably some sort of trap!" Foxclaw's amber eyes burned feverishly; Silverstreak realized his wounds must be infected.

_Most of the herbs grow on our side, _she thought, _and Blackmoon couldn't exactly wander over and ask to borrow them._

"You're coming whether you like it or not," Stonestar growled, approaching the den as well. He entered the crowded space, picking up his injured daughter. "PeakClan goes together, or not at all."

"I'd rather take the latter," Foxclaw growled, claws kneading the ground. "I'm not moving!"

Jag stepped forward. "Yes, you are." He grabbed the ginger tom by his scruff, and began to drag him. Foxclaw let out a hiss, flailing with his claws, but because of his injuries and the fever he had little strength. His eyes burned with hatred as Jag began moving towards the camp entrance.

Fawncloud watched him go, ears flat, before nuzzling another one of the fallen warriors and helping him to his paws. He leaned on her, and the two of them limped away.

Brightifire and Rainsplash stepped forward to help other injured warriors. Eaglestrike and Silverstreak watched as other PeakClan warriors stepped forth to help as well.

The stench of smoke was growing as the fire blazed on the other side of the river, gobbling up everything in its struggle to survive. Silverstreak's tail lashed anxiously; they would have to leave soon.

Sandpelt was one of the last cats left, refusing the help of his warriors. Silverstreak stepped forward.

"Allow me," she mewed, and he shook his head.

"Blazingfoot first," he rasped, flicking his tail towards a tabby tom with a white blaze on his chest. Eaglestrike helped the tabby get to his paws, leading him away.

"You're the last one left," Silverstreak mewed. Sandpelt raised his head, as if to make sure, before looking up at her.

"Everyone else is safe?"

Silverstreak nodded."They should all be making their way down the Peak now."

Sandpelt let out a quiet sigh, rising to his paws quickly; his back was patched with cobwebs, but several of his wounds were untreated.

_Blackmoon didn't have enough herbs to go around; he wasn't expecting such a fierce battle, and PeakClan's territory doesn't have as much to offer, _she thought. She stepped forward, allowing him to lean on her shoulder.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his breath hot against her ear.

"I won't let you die," Silverstreak answered, limping towards the camp entrance; true to her word, they were the last in camp.

"You said you would kill my warriors. It seems like this would be the easy way out for you, letting them die without killing them yourself."

"We aren't cold-hearted cats," she replied. "We couldn't just let you die. It's one thing to lose your life in a battle for your home. It's quite another to stay here because of your wounded pride."

Sandpelt was quiet as they moved towards the roaring waterfall. Her heart began to beat rapidly as they neared the stone path; this time she had to help Sandpelt on the narrow stretch of stone, and her memory of falling was still fresh in her mind. Sparrowfeather wasn't here to save her again.

They padded down as carefully and quickly as they could; Sandpelt stumbled once, and Silverstreak instinctively grabbed his scruff, but he did not fall. Sandpelt shot her another glance when she let go, but she wasn't sure what he was truly thinking, only that he seemed puzzled; whether it was by her behavior or something else, she wasn't sure.

They reached the bottom, and Silverstreak saw that PeakClan was still entering the path behind the waterfall. It was slow going, at only one cat at a time, with so many injured.

Silverstreak and Sandpelt padded forward, and Eaglestrike glanced over his shoulder to smile at her as Blazingfoot disappeared behind the waterfall.

Then, suddenly, the wind changed. A gust of smoke washed over them, making them choke, hacking. Silverstreak pushed Sandpelt to safety behind the waterfall, straining to see through the clouded air.

Then, her eyes widened in horror. Embers from the fire were rising into the sky, flying along with the gust of air. Some of them did not have the momentum to reach the Peak and fell downwards, dying as they went. Others were vanquished by the waterfall's spray. But one singe, solitary ember continued to fly, disappearing from sight as it flew over the Peak.

Silverstreak watched the Peak, eyes wide, waiting. And then she saw smoke rising from it as well, as the fire quickly began to spread from the ember, swallowing the Peak whole as it burned.

Silverstreak turned towards the waterfall, but there was no one there. She had been the only to see PeakClan's home begin to burn.

Her shoulders slumped as she quickly ducked behind the waterfall.

_What am I supposed to tell them? _She wondered. _What will our two Clans do now? The only sustainable land is on their side now…and I don't know how much prey will be there to go around. Their territory is very rocky, so the fire won't go far, but…._

She entered the narrow tunnel, padding through it and coming into the open cavern. She blinked; the two Clans had immediately separated upon entering the cavern. Her Clan was on one side – apparently standing around Death, who looked ill – while PeakClan stood on the other. Both Clans were watching each other uncertainly, as if a second battle might erupt for the space.

_If I tell them…will we have another battle? In their holiest of places? _Silverstreak wondered.

"Everyone is here and accounted for, on both sides," Eaglestrike meowed to her, flicking his tail. With a hesitant glance towards PeakClan, she padded over to him.

"Have they done anything?" she murmured, and he shook his head.

"I think we've just been sizing each other up," he meowed. "It's been…tense."

Tense hardly seemed to describe it; she could see the glow of PeakClan's eyes staring at them in the murky darkness. She sighed quietly; she couldn't lie to them, not even to prevent a fight. Their anger would be that much worse when they emerged from the pool and discovered that their home had burnt.

"PeakClan," she meowed, walking so that she was in the middle of the dry, rocky expanse. "I was the last cat to enter the cavern. And, as such, I was present when an ember floated to the top of the Peak, and…." She bowed her head. "I regret to inform you…that the Peak is burning."

Horror rippled through the ranks of the gathered cats, on both sides.

"We've both lost our camps now," she heard Ravenwing mew quietly behind her.

Foxclaw's eyes flashed in the darkness. "She's lying!" he yowled. "I told you it was a trap!"

"There's no point in her lying," Northstar growled. "We'd see the truth when we left the cavern, and she won't risk a fight now. Neither of us can withstand a battle, and blood should not be shed here."

"Sleekfoot, go and verify this," Stonestar said quietly, almost inaudibly. The slim she-cat stood and slipped away, through the tunnel. Both Clans waited anxiously for her return; Silverstreak could smell their fear-scent, its sharp tang hitting her nose.

Finally, the sleek she-cat returned, shaking like a leaf, the smell of smoke clinging to her fur. She stared at them, eyes glazed, then dipped her head.

"No!" one of the PeakClan cats wailed, followed in suit by the others. Their wails of anguish and loss made Silverstreak's ears flatten.

Stonestar was silent, but his eyes seemed to have also glazed over. "PeakClan has lost their home."

"Your camp is still salvageable," Eaglestrike said. "Most of it was on rocks, or earth. Your dens will be damaged, but by no means destroyed."

_Unlike ours, _she knew he was thinking. The forest's trees were large and strong, it was true, but how many of them could withstand the blazing inferno?

Silverstreak tensed slightly, thinking that their loss might push them over the edge, but PeakClan simply mourned their loss. They almost looked pitiful, with most of them bandaged with cobwebs, wailing for the loss of their home and land. Silverstreak felt a stirring of pity.

_Is this what happened to FrozenClan, after their fire? Did they despair? And then, when the forest Clans reclaimed it…it must have been devastating for them. Just like we're doing now. History's repeating itself…._

_Might PeakClan plot against us, as FrozenClan did? They have Northstar again, one of the most cunning cats any cat has ever known. I have no doubt that if he wanted to, he could wipe us out. Somehow, he would manage it. He needs us now, but when Lion's threat is over….What will happen to us? Will we wage war and lose, just as before?_

Movement stirred in the corner of her eye, and she glanced, blinking with surprise as Ravenwing rose to her paws. There was something in her mouth – cobwebs, Silverstreak realized, the cobwebs that she and Shimmerpaw had been gathering when the fire began. The sleek black she-cat padded forward boldly, striding towards the PeakClan cats. They watched her uncertainly, until she stopped, lowering her bundle to the ground.

"Your warriors are injured; their wounds have reopened," she mewed to Blackmoon. He stared at her, then glanced down at the cobwebs, as if it was somehow a trap.

"These are all that is left of your home," he meowed, glancing up at her again. "These are all the herbs you have."

Ravenwing gave him a gentle smile. "I wish I had more to give you," she said simply, "but it will have to do. Do you know the proper technique for binding wounds? I know you were not formally trained. I was, although I chose the path of a warrior later, for love." She flicked her tail towards Eaglestrike, who was watching closely from where he sat, ready to tear Blackmoon apart if the black tom so much as looked at her wrong.

Something seemed to flit over Blackmoon's face, at her mention of becoming a warrior, but it quickly passed. "I was not formally instructed as an apprentice, no. All I know comes from curiosity as a kit."

Ravenwing smiled, and to Silverstreak's further surprise, she took some of the cobwebs in one paw and half-hopped towards Blazingfoot, who was lying on his side.

"Like so," she mewed, looking over to make sure that Blackmoon was watching. "You want them tightly bound, but not so tightly as to hurt or tear apart when the cat moves. Place them carefully, so you use as much of one as you can. If they're bunched up, you're wasting them."

Blackmoon nodded, looking over her shoulder as she bound a wound on Blazingfoot's shoulder. His fur was upright, showing that he was nervous, but Ravenwing was experienced and gentle.

"There," she said with a little purr, sitting back to admire her handiwork. "You see?"

Still looking uncertain as to Ravenwing's motives, Blackmoon nodded. The black she-cat rose to her paws, padding back to her Clan's side. Silverstreak's heart swelled with pride; Ravenwing behaved like a true medicine cat, not allowing the conflict between Clans to cloud her judgment. With Ravenwing as her mentor, Shimmerpaw was in excellent paws.

PeakClan seemed uncertain as of what to make of Ravenwing's kindness. Then, Sparrowfeather stepped forward shyly, dropping several black seeds onto the cave floor.

"I took these while everyone was running, for the Clan," she said softly. "Can we share them?" She looked to Stonestar, who was watching with sharp amber eyes. He glanced at Silverstreak, and she looked back at him, her expression carefully neutral. Then, he nodded, and Sparrowfeather brought three of the poppy seeds to Ravenwing.

"Thank you," Ravenwing purred, touching her flank as if the tabby she-cat was a Clanmate. Sparrowfeather shrank away, quickly retreating back to her side, where she received a nuzzle from Sleekfoot.

_No, _Silverstreak thought, determination flooding her, _we won't be like the forest Clans and FrozenClan. We will make our peace with PeakClan, when the time comes. If the forest is to be ours, then PeakClan must grant it to us. I won't start our Clan's legacy with us becoming thieves._

"Stonestar," she said softly. "May I speak to you?"

Stonestar blinked uncertainly, but followed her far away from the two groups. The cold water lapped against her paws, and she shivered; how strange that the water was so icy cold, when the fire roared above them.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice quiet so that it would not echo to the two Clans. "What do you want?" His yellow gaze was hard as he watched her, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in their amber depths; he didn't know what to make of her, whether she was friend or foe.

"I don't know what Northstar might have told you, about what happened to Rabbitpaw," she said quietly. "The truth is that she was kidnapped by a she-cat named Toxin. Toxin is the daughter of the cat – the real cat, not me – who overthrew Northstar. I was never involved in that." She paused, waiting to see surprise flit over Stonestar's face, even shock, but his expression did not change.

_Does he already know, somehow? _Silverstreak wondered, but she plunged ahead, "Toxin's father was overthrown, although she didn't know it at the time. Eaglestrike and Brightfire tell me that a rogue named Lion has taken over. He wishes revenge on my old Clan, and he has sworn to kill me and all of my friends. Toxin will have returned to him by now, or she will soon; she will bring news of our whereabouts. When Lion is ready, he will come and attempt to crush my Clan." She swallowed. "I know that sounds like good news to you, but trust me when I tell you that it is not. Lion will turn on you next; we believe that even after his revenge he will be consumed by grief and greed, and he is against all Clans. He will blame your Clan as much as he does mine for his losses. He will attack you and slaughter your warriors." Her ears flattened.

"Our only hope of survival is to have PeakClan on our side. It is your only hope, as well. But…this all began because of conflict between Northstar's Clan and the Clans of the forest where I lived. None of this would have happened if the forest Clans hadn't stolen their territory from the mountain cats. I do not want history to repeat itself. So I, and the rest of my Clan, ask you, Stonestar, for your territory." She let out a quiet breath. "We will not take it from you. I believe StarClan sent me here, but I do not know if you share your beliefs. I know you hate rogues, and you do not want to give up your territory…but we will not take it. There will be no more violence." She flicked her tail to Ravenwing, who was tending to her own Clan with the few cobwebs that she had not given away. "I had nothing to do with Ravenwing's actions; she is a good and just cat. I believe that Sparrowfeather is as well. Stonestar, our two Clans could be at peace. We have our differences, I know this, but we do not want a war. We don't want any more blood to be shed, not when Lion threatens to kill us all." She blinked at him, slowly.

"And if I do not grant you this, you will leave?" Stonestar asked, his voice low.

Silverstreak's ears flattened; it was not a question she'd hoped to hear, but she would not go back on her word. "Yes. I believe StarClan wishes us to have this forest, but we will not take it through violence. We will not steal from you, or any other cat. If you will not grant us the forest, we will find a new forest for ourselves."

"And if you leave, will Lion still attack us?"

Silverstreak's head lowered slightly. "I wish I could say no…but Lion hates the Clans, and when Toxin tells him of your existence, he will set out to destroy you. That is our fault, and we take the blame for it. I should have been direct when I first came here; I should have met you face-to-face and explained my mission. Perhaps things would be better then. But I was scared to do so, not only because of your Clan's hatred of rogues, but also because of Northstar…I knew he would spread lies about me, as he did. And I knew PeakClan would choose his word over mine."

Stonestar was quiet, still watching her. "And what about when Lion's threat passes? You will remain in our territory if I let you stay?"

"If you give us that half of the river now, it is ours forever," she said firmly. "And if you don't, then we will never return, and that is that."

"Bringing a second Clan in will throw our Clan into turmoil," Stonestar said. "They are hostile towards you. They despise rogues."

Silverstreak's gaze drifted towards the two groups of cats; she blinked as she saw Ravenwing leading Shimmerpaw towards the PeakClan cats, motioning for the silver apprentice to watch as Blackmoon bound a wound of his Clanmate. The PeakClan warriors looked nervous, but not overly hostile. "We might be closer to peace than you think," she mewed softly. Stonestar glanced towards his Clan, watching them for a moment.

"This isn't something I can just decide," he growled. "Not after this. It will take time."

Silverstreak nodded. "I understand, Stonestar, completely. Take as much time as you need…but if Lion arrives before you make a decision, we will fight for our territory, with your help or without it. And if we win that battle, the forest is ours; my warriors will not die in vain."

Stonestar gave her a small nod, and Silverstreak returned to her group.

"What was that about?" Reedrush asked curiously, her tail wrapped around Blizzardkit loosely.

Silverstreak swallowed. "I told Stonestar that we wouldn't take his territory from him. That we wouldn't steal it. It's his choice whether we stay or leave, but I made sure that he understands that he will have to fight Lion regardless of his own choice."

They were incredulous. "Silverstreak, you…?" Eaglestrike stared at her, giving a weak laugh. "Silverstreak…you never fail to amaze me, you know that? Or confound me. Do you really think he's just going to let us stay?"

Silverstreak gave them a small shrug. "If we hadn't taken the forest from the mountain cats, then we wouldn't be here," she reminded him. "If we didn't take the forest from the mountain cats, they would never have hated us."

"They gave up on their territory!" Eaglestrike protested. "They thought it was worthless."

"But PeakClan does not; they know it has value, and us taking it from them by brute force would be stealing; we'd be no better than the common rogues that they think we are," Silverstreak pressed. Eaglestrike shook his head in disbelief.

The faces of her Clan were anxious.

"If Stonestar won't let us play, then StarClan will send us somewhere else, perhaps even somewhere where Lion will not find us," Silverstreak meowed. "We must have faith in their plans."

Her warriors nodded, but they all appeared uncertain. Then, Reedrush let out a loud meow as Blizzardkit wormed his way out of her grasp, racing towards the Pool. He splashed through it, sending silver water spraying upwards, twinkling like stars as it fell back down in droplets.

Silverstreak turned towards PeakClan, fearing they might attack the kit for playing in their holy water, but to her surprise a little golden figure darted forward, knocking Blizzardkit over. It was another kit, one of the ones from the dappled she-cat's litter. The kit's pelt shone a bright gold as he grinned down at Blizzardkit, who struggled. Blizzardkit was older, however, and wiggled out of the golden kit's grasp, pinning him down in return.

The golden kit's sister, a little golden-brown tabby with white paws, darted forward, sending Blizzardkit tumbling again. He grappled against both opponents fiercely, blue eyes glinting with the excitement of battle.

PeakClan seemed just as frozen as Silverstreak's Clan, watching the three kits play-fight. Jaykit strained to join them, but Frostfeather kept a firm grasp on him, Robinkit in her jaws.

Death was the only one not paying attention to the play-fight, but that was a given. Every other cat was fixated on the little battle.

"Two PeakClan cats at once," Buck suddenly yowled. "Seems like our cats can hold their own!"

All eyes were on him, but he was unbothered; a smile curled his great muzzle, and his golden eyes glimmered slightly as he stared at the opposing Clan.

"Our kits are just defending the pool from your stench!" one of the PeakClan warriors jeered back.

"Oh, we stink?" Buck asked. "Who're the cats that have to live on top of a waterfall so that their prey doesn't smell them and flee?"

A few amused purrs rippled through Silverstreak's ranks.

"At least PeakClan is make of warriors, not a bunch of savage rogues!" Smallfire growled, but Buck laughed the insult away.

"I'd rather be born a kittypet than a PeakClan warrior," he replied in return. This time, the purrs were louder.

"I think we all know how well kittypets can hunt," another warrior, a tortoiseshell, laughed. "I once saw a kittypet mistake a skunk for a chipmunk. Not a pretty sight afterwards!"

Several PeakClan warriors laughed at her words, and Buck joined them.

"That's nothing," he meowed. "I once saw a kittypet mistake their own tail for a badger. You should have heard him yelp."

PeakClan laughed, and almost seemed surprised to find themselves laughing at an enemy's joke.

Silverstreak realized what Buck was doing, and smiled at the simplicity of it; enemies were quick to laugh at jokes about each other, even if it came from the opposite party.

She smiled slightly, listening as Buck and PeakClan traded insults and the occasional self-deprecating joke. Just as Buck paused, trying to think of another retort, their attention was drawn back to the kits.

"Sss," Blizzardkit hissed, and it took them a moment to realize that he wasn't simply making hissing noises, but attempting to make his first word. "Stink!" He yowled, charging forward. The golden kit, too young to properly speak, let out an answering yowl and dashed forward as well. Their heads collided with a thud, and both fell back into the water, leaving the golden-brown kit bewildered. Both little toms broke the surface coughing and sneezing.

Reedrush let out a sigh behind Silverstreak. "Of course stink is his first word," she muttered under her breath.

The Clans stared at the kits for a moment, looking at the little warriors, before breaking into loud laughter. The tension that had been bubbling beneath the surface burst forth, in a more positive form than Silverstreak could have imagined. Their laughter rang through the cavern, bouncing off of the walls and echoing back in distorted voices that were even more amusing. The three kits blinked, bewildered for a moment, before breaking into little giggles themselves. Blizzardkit gave both PeakClan kits a playful twitch of his tail, before trotting back to his mother as proudly as if he had just won a great battle.

_And perhaps he has, _Silverstreak thought, looking at the glittering eyes of the opposite Clan as the laughs slowly died away. _Perhaps he just won us our territory._

. . .

She curled up beside her Clanmates, feeling their gentle warmth. Ravenwing, Buck, and even Blizzardkit had given their all to try and push the two Clans closer together. Silverstreak wasn't sure whether or not they had succeeded, but they would find out when Stonestar gave them his final answer. Worry churned in her belly for a moment, but she let out a quiet sigh, thinking of StarClan.

_StarClan will provide, _she thought firmly. _They haven't let us down yet, not throughout this entire mad adventure. If this forest cannot be our home, another forest will be. We just have to find it. Everything will turn out alright, because it must._

_Hopefully the fire will die by tomorrow, and we can survey our territory for ourselves…see what remains of it. Even if Stonestar grants it to us, there might not be much to give._

She flicked the worry away with her ear, as she might a fly, and closed her eyes, resting her muzzle against her paws. They were alive and well, and even a little happy; she would thank StarClan for that. And, of course, Death.

_The day we found him was a good one, _she thought. _Not even Frostfeather can dispute that now…although of course, she'll never tell him._

Silverstreak let out a quiet purr at the thought, the last sound of amusement that she would make for that day. She relaxed, letting her thoughts ease and her mind slip away.

. . .

She woke up slowly, blinking, uncertain as to why she had done so. She pricked her ears, but the sound of the fire was impossible to hear over the roaring waterfall. Was it over?

She rose to her paws, glancing around, but not a single other cat was awake. She frowned to herself, wondering why she had woken up.

_I might as well see if the fire has stopped burning, _she thought, picking her way around her Clanmates carefully, smiling as she saw the peaceful expressions on their sleeping faces. She glanced towards PeakClan; it was odd, really, how peaceful they looked as well. If the two Clans had been lying together, she would not have been able to pick them out. Even Northstar looked less fierce with his head on his black paws.

She padded through the tunnel, wincing as the waterfall buffeted her ears. She chose her way down the slick rock path carefully, padding forward hesitantly as she left the safety of the ledge.

Her ears flattened as she saw the decimated forest; the trees were burned black, and ash seemed to have coated everything with a dark power. Most of the undergrowth had been entirely burned away.

_Even if we can stay, there isn't much here for us, _she thought mournfully, painfully aware of all that her Clan had lost.

And then—

"Princess?"

She turned quickly, heart beating with disbelief, and she was lost in those leaf-green eyes, that crooked smile. She rushed forward, almost knocking him over, burying her nose into his fur and sucking in his scent. He went rigid under her touch, and she could feel him swallow.

"Silverstreak, I came back because of the fire and a lot of other stuff I need to tell you about, but I can't stay. This will just make it that much harder when I have to go, because you still don't even know if you—"

"I love you," she whispered into his fur. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

At first, he seemed frozen; then he melted against her, moving to that her head was resting underneath his muzzle, her face against his chest. His heartbeat thudded against her ear rapidly, and her own heart seemed to swell as she drank in his familiar scent, like the forest after a rain.

"You have no idea how many dreams I had of you saying that," he murmured, his warm breath tickling her ear. "I'm half expecting to wake up."

"You won't," she promised, purring with delight as his tongue rasped over her neck. She moved in closer, pressing herself against him, lost in her first taste of what love – _real love _– felt like. His purrs seemed to make her entire body vibrate, and there was nothing else she wanted to do than stay like that forever.

"Grossss!" a young voice groaned nearby. Silverstreak blinked, and Forest pulled away slightly to turn, although his pelt was still against hers.

"I thought you were tough and stuff," the voice's owner, a young blue-gray tom, whined. "Not all mushy and stuff. Eww."

Next to him was a fluffy white she-cat, with blue eyes that were oddly vacant. Forest let out an amused purr, glancing at Silverstreak.

"These are Thistle and Brightflash," he meowed, "and I have a lot of things to tell you."

Silverstreak entwined her tail with his, still purring. "We've got all the time in the world."

**AN: Happy Valentine's Day, darlings. (:**


	40. C h a p t e r 39: Lion

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**39: Lion**

He saw that shimmering pelt of hers, and his heart seemed to thud in his chest wildly.

"Clover," he whispered, but she did not move; her face was hidden in the shadows, but there was no mistaking that white and ginger pelt. "Clover," he said, padding forward. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," she murmured to him as she pressed her face into his golden fur; he still couldn't see hers, but it didn't matter. He curled his body around her, feeling warmth crackle over his fur as their pelts touched, felt her purr with pleasure as his tongue stroked her muzzle and neck. She leaned against him, letting out a low moan, and Lion felt himself burning with desire. She pressed her muzzle against his chest, licking it softly with her small pink tongue, and Lion let out a quiet groan, pressing his own face into her luxurious fur.

"I'll never let you go again," he rumbled, feeling their purrs shake them both. Clover looked up at him, and smiled.

Her eyes were blue, bright and cold as ice, and as he watched she gave him a smile equally as cold and killing as she sank her fangs into his throat.

His eyes flew open, and he stared at the den wall as he panted, chills running down his spine. He looked around wildly, but the strange-eyed Clover was nowhere to be seen.

_Just a dream, _he thought, and felt a confusing pang of loss and relief.

_It wasn't her, anyway. Clover never had eyes like that…._The thought made him glance at the young white tom sleeping at his side.

_If neither of you had eyes like that, how could he be your son? _A voice needled, but Lion shook it away.

_Chill is my son_, he thought. _I don't need to wonder about his eyes. He is simply my son, and that is all._

He turned to stare out of the den; it was nearly dawn, so he would have woken anyway even if he hadn't been dreaming. He forced himself to his paws, and gave Chill a gentle nuzzle with his broad nose.

Chill stirred slowly, turning to blink up at his father with his cold blue eyes. Lion smiled down at him.

"It's time," he growled, voice soft and deep. Chill nodded, rising to his paws; the young white tom did not speak much, but it did not bother Lion, as he preferred not to speak either. Lion had wondered if Chill was deaf because of the combination of his white fur and blue eyes, but Chill proved to actually have hearing that was quite good. He was smart, and a quick learner, but he knew when to keep his mouth shut as well.

They padded out of the den together; their strides would have been in sync if Lion's own were not so long.

He ignored the watchful eyes of TalonClan; they were growing stronger, training for the up-and-coming battle. Lion was not yet sure when that day would arrive; none of the scouts that Slaughter had sent out before his death had returned. Once Lion had more information on Silverstreak's whereabouts, he would plot his strike. But for now, he had all the time in the world to spend with his son, teaching him the things he had learned from his father, training him to be just as fierce a fighter.

They padded down the side of the mountain, hooking their claws in the rocks to prevent a fall. Lion's pads were tender from being on the mountain, but Chill was fine; his pads were not as hard as those of mountain cats, but they were still firm enough to stand up to the mountain's rocky ground.

They walked together in silence until they made their way down into the marsh; Lion opened his mouth, hunting for scents.

"You never know when an enemy is lurking," he rumbled to Chill, who nodded; he had heard the words before, many times.

They trudged through the marsh together; Lion didn't mind a messy coat, but Chill was oddly fastidious with his own pelt, and he tried to keep as clean as possible, leaping from grassy lump to grassy lump, avoiding the mud as best he could. Lion watched, but didn't attempt to stop him; he knew in battle, Chill's dislike of mud would vanish and he would concentrate on the fight at paw.

"Where are we going?" Chill asked quietly, his voice whisper-soft.

"You'll see," Lion growled. "Somewhere you haven't been before."

Chill's ears pricked at his words; Lion had showed him most of the landmarks of the territory. If there was still a place Chill didn't know, then it was an important one.

"It's a very important place to the Clan," Lion continued, then stopped, spotting a river winding through the marsh. "There." He began padding towards it.

"The Clan's worried about one river? In an entire marsh?"

"The river just shows us the way," Lion meowed. He ran along the muddy bank, Chill keeping up easily; his strides were shorter, but he was incredibly fast for one so young.

"There," Lion meowed, coming to a stop. Chill peered from behind him.

"A pool," he meowed, and Lion nodded.

"Four streams feed it. The Clans spoke to StarClan here."

Chill blinked slowly, absorbing the scene, watching the sunlight dance off of the dark pool. It didn't look like anything special in the daylight, just a slightly muddy pool fed by four small streams, but Lion knew how powerful the Clans' faith was.

He padded forward, to the pool's side, gazing into the water. He saw his own reflection, his own haunted eyes and scarred face. Then, he turned, lifting his tail over the pool, releasing his own little gift.

_This is what I think of your StarClan. _

Chill watched silently as Lion finished, then turned to glance over his shoulder at the dirtied water. His lip curled.

"No Clan cat shall share dreams with StarClan here again," he meowed. "Never. The Clans are dead here; they died with this pool's power. And I will ensure that they never rise again." His amber eyes glinted. "And you will help me, son."

Chill nodded. "Of course, Father. I'll do whatever it takes to bring the Clan down."

Lion stepped forward, resting his muzzle on the top of Chill's head. "Thank you."

. . .

They returned to camp together, after a short hunt; Chill managed to catch a mouse, much to Lion's pleasure, although it had been an easy catch.

The atmosphere was different as they entered the camp together. Lion pricked his ears uneasily; he could feel TalonClan's unrest. The cats seemed to be hanging on the very edge in camp, hiding against the stone and in the dens. Lion's eyes narrowed as he padded towards his den, where he had thought he would share a meal with his son.

At his den, two cats were waiting for him; one was a pale golden tom, with feathery tabby markings so pale they were almost invisible. He had warm, gentle golden eyes, and a slight smile curling his muzzle as he stared straight into Lion's eyes. The second cat Lion recognized instantly, even thought he had never seen her before; there was no mistaking those cold blue eyes.

He let out a low rumble, sweeping Chill behind him with his tail. "Slaughter's daughter."

The she-cat's eyes narrowed, and she watched him; clearly she was sizing him up, but he wasn't going to show off for her. They stared at each other for a moment with steely gazes, the tension between them so thick that Lion could feel it crackling over his pelt.

Then, her gaze dropped suddenly, and she glanced down at her paws before looking up again. "You killed my father."

"I did." There was no remorse in his voice; he felt none, and Lion was not the kind of cat to conceal his feelings.

"In revenge for the death of your own family, I've heard," Toxin meowed. "Is this true?"

Lion simply nodded, glancing again at the golden tom. "Who is this?"

"My name is Carmelo," the golden tom meowed, giving a little dip of his head. "I hail from the Twolegplace." His voice was rich, smooth, soft, like honey; Lion could almost feel the _goldness_ of it, as strange as that sounded. This was a charismatic tom, one who got his way.

Lion ignored him for the moment, returning his gaze to Toxin. "Why did you come back? No one here seems to know why you left, only that you were given an important mission."

"I was, by my father," she meowed; her voice was a low growl, but Lion was not threatened; it was she that had broken off eye-contact. She would not try to strike him, or fight for dominance. No cat would dare touch the tom that had beaten Slaughter.

"And what was it?" Lion growled back, his patience waning.

"Perhaps it would be best to speak of it in your den," Toxin mewed, glancing at Chill, who was motionless, his own icy eyes taking everything in.

"Anything I can hear, Chill can as well. He is my son."

Surprise flitted over her face. "Everyone here says your family is den."

Lion bared his fangs, fur bristling. "Are you implying that I don't know my own family?"

Toxin's ears flattened. "No. Of course not. The kit can listen, then, but it is not for the ears of anyone else."

Lion glanced over his shoulder, feeling the Clan's curious eyes, and was forced to admit her wisdom. "Fine."

He stalked past the pair of strange cats, Chill following him into the den. Lion sat down in his nest, wrapping his thick tail around his golden paws, waiting.

Toxin brushed her tail over the ground before sitting, as if brushing the dust away; she held a regal pose, nose lifted slightly, indicating that she was not afraid. Carmelo sat beside her, their pelts almost touching; he seemed mildly curious, at ease, his warm eyes glancing over the den as though he would his own.

There was silence for a moment, as the two waited for Lion, but he said nothing. Finally, Toxin swallowed.

"My father sent me on an important mission that had to kept secret," she said. "I had to locate Silverstreak and the others."

Lion's single ear pricked with interest, despite himself. "And did you find them?"

"I wouldn't have returned until I did," she growled. "Father did not accept failure."

Lion's whiskers twitched. "He was ready to flee when I beat him."

Fury flashed in Toxin's eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it had come. "I located them. They are in a forest to the south of the Twolegplace…and Northstar is there as well." Her claws scratched against the stone floor of the den. "I nearly had them killing each other, but my plan went astray…there is much hatred between them, but I fear they might join forces if they realize that you are coming for them…which they will, considering that Eaglestrike and Brightfire made it to them."

Lion's eyes narrowed at the mention of his ex-deputy. _So we will face each other in battle, it would seem. _A twinge of regret pained him, but it disappeared as he quashed it firmly.

"Is this a problem for us?"

Toxin gave a small shrug. "Northstar has found another Clan that we didn't know about. They call themselves PeakClan. They are weak, but they are large in numbers and they will be training to combat the new threat…Northstar will probably have blamed Silverstreak for you and me. But if he hasn't, and they band together…it could be trouble. Silverstreak has amassed her own followers to rebuild her Clan."

Hatred burned like a flame inside of Lion; he could feel the fire licking through his veins, and he let out another hiss. "We won't let any Clans survive."

Toxin's eyes narrowed. "Not even TalonClan?"

He ignored the question; he still wasn't sure what he would do with TalonClan. They would remain under his rule, that much was clear; he could hardly leave them in Toxin's paws, where she would whip them into an army and hunt him down. He would ensure that the Clan would fall, one way or another.

And then, perhaps, he could focus on a calm, peaceful life, alone with his son….They could find their own territory, somewhere far from this dreadful place and its memories…somewhere safe, where he could raise Chill into a respectable rogue as his father had raised him.

"And you?" Lion asked finally, turning towards Carmelo, who gave him a gentle smile.

"I am here to help," he meowed, his soothing voice washing over Lion's ear. "You see, you will need more cats than the ones you have here…especially if Silverstreak aligns herself with the bosses of Twolegplace."

Lion nodded slowly. "Cane and Amber."

Carmelo blinked. "You've heard of them?"

"We avoided the Twolegplace because of them; it was said they would separate toms from she-cats if you traveled through their territory. We went to the mountains, instead." _And lost everything._

Carmelo nodded slowly. "Yes, they rule the city. They hate each other with a passion, but they are also each other's greatest ally in times of trouble. If you go into Twolegplace, they will fight you. They'll let in small groups of cats to pass through, but big groups like yours even being around the city…." He shook his head.

"Carmelo leads his own gang of cats; he has a small piece of Twolegplace territory that we can pass through safely," Toxin meowed. "He'll ally his forces with us."

"Why?"

Carmelo sighed quietly. "As I said, Cane and Amber band together in times of trouble, and they are nearly unstoppable. I cannot gain much of a footing in Twolegplace because of this."

"You want to use my cats to help you gain territory." Lion's eyes narrowed into slits, but Carmelo only gave him a charming smile.

"Indeed, my friend. And you want to use mine to squash the Clans. It seems like the perfect alliance, no? We will fight your war first, I assure you…and once we have won, we will fight mine."

"Even with your gang and my cats, we won't have enough warriors to fight the bosses," Lion said slowly. He knew he was being used, but he didn't care; all that mattered was revenge on Silverstreak. He would lose many cats of TalonClan in that…and if he was lucky, he would lose even more fighting Carmelo's war. He cared nothing for the cowards of TalonClan; his only concern was for himself and Chill.

"Slaughter sent out scouts," Toxin pointed out. "They'll be able to tell us where other pockets of rogues might be; we can bring them into our group with promises of new territories and such. And I'm sure Blight will bring us back some more cats; he was the hero of our greatest battle with ShellClan, after all. Was it not for him, we couldn't have won that battle, and our conquest might have been over." Her eyes glinted as she spoke of the tom; Lion knew from Brightfire that Toxin and Blight had a romantic relationship, albeit not the usual kind; Toxin admired Blight's strength and prowess, and wanted him to father her kits. Whether or not actual love was involved, no one knew.

"This is true…we might need to stall our battle plans to collect ourselves," Lion mused. "I want Silverstreak dead by the end of all of this. We'll wait as long as it takes to make that happen."

Carmelo gave him a grin. "Do we have a deal, then? An alliance?"

Lion nodded. "We do."

. . .

"I don't trust them, Father," Chill meowed, nibbling the end of his mouse. Lion nodded in agreement.

"Nor do I. But if what they say is true, we'll need every cat we can get."

Chill frowned. "What if they're lying?"

"They want Silverstreak and the others dead as much as we do," Lion growled.

"Why would Toxin?"

"She'll be planning to overthrow me, I'm sure…Silverstreak is still a threat. Northstar is as well. She'll want them eliminated before she does anything to take revenge for her own loss."

"Are you going to kill her?"

Lion looked up; Chill's eyes were as cold as ever, emotionless. He simply waited for his father's answer, offering no judgment on whether the she-cat should live or die. A shiver ran over Lion's fur; there was something wrong about one so young becoming so calculating, measuring the weight of another's life.

"Perhaps," was all he said, looking away from his son.

"And Carmelo? His followers?" Chill asked. "Are you going to kill him and absorb them into the Clan?"

Lion looked up slowly. "When this is all over, TalonClan will be finished."

Chill blinked slowly. "What do you mean, Father?"

"One way or another, the Clan will end with the death of Silverstreak. I don't need an army at my command. I've no use for one." His eyes glazed over slightly, as he stared out of the den. "I just want somewhere nice…a little slice of territory, somewhere to call our own. Just the two of us, you know?" He sighed quietly, staring at his paws. "Hopefully that's not too far away."

"But…you have all these cats at your command…wouldn't it make sense to use them? Why get rid of them?"

"We don't need them, and I don't want them." Chill blinked at him uncomprehendingly, and Lion realized that for all his teachings, he had never told Chill about what had happened to his mother. Lion swallowed; Chill needed to know to understand his father's decision, but even thinking of Clover was painful.

"There's a lot you don't understand," he said slowly, "a lot about the Clan cats that you don't know. Your mother…."

Alarm seemed to flit over Chill's face, but it vanished as quickly as it had come.

"My mother?" he asked quietly, blue eyes narrowed.

Lion nodded slowly. "I know you don't remember anything about before I found you…it's a mystery how you survived for as long as you did on your own. But your mother…your mother was killed, by Clan cats. The rest of my band of rogues were killed as well.

"Band of rogues?" Chill echoed. Lion beckoned him forward, and the young tom came to sit beside his father. Lion hesitated, then rasped his tongue over Chill's ear.

"Allow me to tell you about your mother…."

. . .

_His dreams were whirling images and sounds, with seemingly no rhyme or reason; he saw a golden tom with Chill's blue eyes blinking at him, looked up as Carmelo's warm voice seemed to gush from the clouds, heard the sound of unsheathing claws behind him. The stench of blood became overwhelming, choking him, gagging him until he felt that he would drown in it. _

"_Clover!" he yowled, but his voice was snatched away by the wind and distorted, ringing in his ears. "Clover! Where are you?"_

"_Lion?" He could hear her voice, seeming to weave between his ears. "Lion, where are you? Lion?"_

_He raced towards the sound, but it was as if he wasn't going anywhere. He looked down, and saw that there was nothing underneath his paws._

_Absolutely nothing._

_He screamed, and suddenly he was falling, hearing Clover's voice crying out for him._

"_Lion? Lion, where are you? Lion?"_

"Lion!"

His eyes shot open, and bared his fangs in a snarl, fur bristling. Feather blinked at him nervously, her ears flat against her head.

"Y-You were making noises," she stammered. "Are you alright?"

Lion shook himself, forcing himself to flatten his fur. He swallowed, the dream already melting away in his mind.

"I'm fine," he snapped. "What do you want?"

"Um, the scouts are back," Feather mewed. "Or..some of them are. Everyone thought that…you would want to know…." She trailed off uncertainly, blinking at him with fear in her eyes. Lion flicked his tail, and Feather quickly padded away.

Lion sighed quietly; the patrol would be shocked to find him in power, he knew that. They might not be loyal to him, but he would have to win their loyalty one way or another. He'd need every able-bodied cat he could find to make sure that Silverstreak went down.

He padded out of the den, quickly glancing around camp; Carmelo and Toxin were nowhere to be seen, and he let out a low growl.

_Probably off scheming together, _he thought darkly, before searching for the returning scouts.

_There should be…nine cats? I believe three patrols were sent out…._

Three cats were padding towards him; one was a large white tom, another a blue-gray tom. The third, who was in the lead, was a slim brown tabby with bright green eyes.

"Where's Slaughter?" the small tabby asked, his green eyes narrowed.

"Dead," Lion growled, "as are his nine guards. I defeated them all. I rule TalonClan now. You will take orders from me, and forget all about Slaughter and his rule."

The cats exchanged glances, and Lion's tail twitched. "Which patrol are you three from?" he demanded. "Where are the others?"

They glanced at each other again quickly, the two larger toms clearly waiting for the smaller tabby to say something.

"We were the east patrol," the small tabby said finally. "I am Pit, and this is Smash and Slash."

Lion nodded slowly. "And the others?"

Pit blinked slowly. "I don't know, we weren't in touch with the other patrols."

"The southern patrol met its end, unfortunately," a feminine voice said behind them; Lion glanced over his shoulder to see Toxin approaching. He had to force himself not to bare his fangs at her.

"What do you mean?" he growled.

"Silverstreak and her friends killed the southern patrol," Toxin mewed. "I was there, but there was little I could do about it, unfortunately. Snake, Venom, and Bristle were all killed."

_Three more warriors we could have used, _Lion thought. _By killing Slaughter and his guards, plus these new deaths, we've lost some of the most powerful cats in this Clan…a major setback. We'll definitely need Carmelo, although I don't exactly like the idea of joining with him. He's obviously planning something, and he definitely has his own motives…he'll probably want more of our help if he manages to overthrow Cane and Amber. He'll want more than the city….Although, if he absorbs TalonClan, it will take care of my problem, and I can find somewhere for Chill and myself to live that much faster._

"And the west patrol?" Lion inquired. Both groups shrugged.

"I wasn't able to keep tabs on Blight; Silverstreak and her friends all went south, I had to follow them." Toxin glanced at Pit and the rest of the patrol. "Any news from you?"

Pit nodded. "There are several small groups of rogues nearby; there's a valley they live in. It would be a good place to capture later, when we have the time. Anyway, the rogues won't be too hard to crush. We can add them to TalonClan easily."

Lion smiled. "Excellent."

_And once all this is over, that valley will be ours. Chill and I can live there…and we can forget that TalonClan ever existed. Once I have my revenge…._He realized he was letting out a quiet, rumbling growl, his claws kneading the earth.

"We can't waste any time," he growled. "Round up as many cats as you think you will need. We're going to strike now. The valley will be ours before the end of the moon."

_And we will be that much closer to having Silverstreak's blood on my claws._

**AN: I know you're all yelling "Why wasn't his first dream in italics?". I'll answer it briefly here; he's honestly kind of losing his grip on reality. Telling apart dreams from reality is becoming increasingly difficult for him, as his sanity begins to ebb under the pressure of losing his family and pursuing a bloody revenge. He's not cut out to lead so many cats, and it's wearing him down.**

**Plus, it makes you guys kinda go "wat?" at the beginning. And you all know I like that. C:**

**Cane and Amber was a gimme, but how many people thought Carmelo would be important, eh?**

**I'm so sorry that this took so long; things came up IRL, and writing for Lion is actually incredibly hard for some reason. I was having some major blockage here. D:**


	41. C h a p t e r 40

**AN: It's currently Day 54, for those who asked.**

**Also, remember that there was no northern patrol, because to the north…is the ocean. Not much to be explored there. ;)**

**Also, wow! Someone informed me in a review that I had the most words in the entire Warriors section, so I went and looked, and it's true! I'm on top by about 30k. Snatched was up on that list too. I'm not sure if it's good or bad; either I have a lot to say, or it takes me longer to say it than I should. Either way, I'm kind of pleased. Thanks to Moonscar for the heads up!**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**40**

"Cane and Amber?" Silverstreak echoed, as Forest finished his tale. Her ears flattened nervously. "Forest, I appreciate that, but…I don't know why they would agree to help us without some sort of string attached to it." She frowned.

Forest touched his nose against her ear. "Well, they're still coming. Natasha and Mitch wouldn't let me run head-long into the forest, although I wanted to warn you…they had to hold me down. We went to speak to Cane and Amber instead, to make sure they were both still coming."

Silverstreak shook her head slowly. "This will be a lot to explain, to anyone…if we get to keep our territory."

Forest blinked, puzzled, and Silverstreak quickly explained what she had said to Stonestar.

"Silverstreak," Forest said, shaking his head slowly. "Honestly. What am I going to do with you? You're like…a kit. A kit who thinks everyone is her friend."

"I wasn't going to steal the territory," Silverstreak growled.

"They stole it from the rogues who lived here," Forest pointed out. Silverstreak flicked her ear at him.

"Another war, no matter who is in the right or wrong, has to be avoided. Whatever happened in the past, a new generation of cats is growing up here now. The past doesn't matter so much anymore. The new generation will never remember that. We have to take the first step towards peace between the two Clans, or we have to leave. War only breeds more war."

Forest shook his head again. "Whatever you say, princess. Now…what about them?" He flicked his tail towards Brightflash and Thistle, who were both watching anxiously.

"They'll join us, of course," Silverstreak mewed, "providing that they still want to."

"We don't have nowhere else," Thistle meowed. "We'll come with you…although are you gonna stay? Now that everything's burned?"

Silverstreak nodded. "If Stonestar will let us, we will stay. The forest will grow back. Time will heal it." She flicked her tail to the three of them. "We should get back to the Clan; the others will be waking up now."

Forest stroked her flank with his tail."What happened to PeakClan?" he asked, glancing up at the Peak. "They still up there?"

Silverstreak swallowed, knowing this would be a touchy subject with him. "They're with us, actually, in the Pool of Stars."

For the longest moment, Forest simply stared at her. "You didn't. No. Please tell me you didn't…?"

The answer was plain on her face, and Forest let out a groan. "Silverstreak! All your problems could have been solved right then and there, don't you see? It would have been _so easy! _Just let them fend for themselves and we wouldn't have this whole mess!"

Silverstreak's ears flattened. "You know I can't do that, Forest. We need them."

"We don't need them! We've got the bosses on our side!"

"And Lion has all of TalonClan, and whatever rogues Slaughter's scouts managed to find!" Silverstreak exclaimed. "We would be completely outnumbered."

"But they're a bunch of soft-clawed loner-murderers," Forest meowed. "How can you even consider siding with cats like that?"

"I may not like it, but we had no other choice. And things aren't as bad as you might think right now. We can make this work. It has to."

Forest sighed quietly. "Whatever you say, Silverstreak. I trust you. Come on, let's go." He flicked his tail towards Brightflash and Thistle, waiting for Silverstreak to take the lead.

She ducked behind the waterfall, following the narrow path to the tunnel. She paused, checking to make sure that the others were following, before squeezing through.

As she'd expected, cats from both Clans were coming awake. Eaglestrike padded towards her as she entered.

"Where did you go? Hunting? To look at our camp?"

Silverstreak smiled. "Neither, actually." She glanced over her shoulder, and felt Eaglestrike stiffen with surprise as he saw Forest, then Brightflash and Thistle.

"Brightflash!"

Reedrush's shout startled Silverstreak, and she turned to see the silver queen racing towards the white she-cat.

"Brightflash, it's so good to see you," Reedrush purred, pressing her nose against Brightflash's shoulder. The white queen seemed taken aback, and she moved away. Reedrush blinked, confused.

"Don't you recognize me? It's me, Reed! I'm Reedrush now!"

Brightflash's gaze dropped to her paws. "I'm sorry," she mewed in a voice that was whisper-soft. "I don't know you."

Reedrush stared at her, confused. She turned to Silverstreak, confusion clouding her eyes. "Isn't this Brightflash?"

Silverstreak glanced towards Forest. "I thought she was."

"Oh. Ah, there's something I neglected to mention, ha…." Forest looked sheepish. "Brightflash…apparently has no memory."

Reedrush turned to Brightflash. "What? Is that true?"

"A monster got her in the Twolegplace," little Thistle piped up. "And when she woke up, she wasn't the same…she didn't remember anything. My dad, me, how to hunt…." His blue-gray ears flattened. "We've been trying to re-teach her stuff, but it's hard…."

Silverstreak felt a surge of pity for the young tom. _What must it be like, when your own mother doesn't recognize you?_

"So you're her kit?" Reedrush asked. "I remember when we last saw Brightflash…she was very near kitting, I remember that…did everything turn out okay?"

Thistle gave a little shrug. "Mother doesn't remember, and Father never wanted to talk about it. I guess I'm here, though, so it couldn't have been that bad…."

"Forest? You're back?" Buck approached slowly, eyes narrowed. Forest smiled at him, but Buck didn't smile back. "I thought you decided Clan life wasn't right for you."

"Er, well, I did…but I changed my mind. I couldn't just desert you guys, with Lion and all…." He glanced to the side, seeing that most of PeakClan was watching them.

"I see. Well, welcome back." Buck's tone was anything but welcome.

Silverstreak's heart sank. _They think he deserted them. It will take time before they accept that he's come back…._

"Who are these cats?" Stonestar growled, padding forward. "I recognize the tom, but the other two?"

"These are Brightflash and Thistle; Brightflash and Reedrush used to live in the same group, near the lake," Silverstreak explained. "They're going to join our Clan as well."

Stonestar's eyes narrowed. "You're still recruiting?"

"We'll take any cat that comes to us," Silverstreak meowed. "If they're here, then StarClan guided them here. Who are we to question their will, in the end?"

Stonestar's tail flicked. "Did the fire burn itself out?"

Forest took a step forward, pressing his pelt against Silverstreak's side. He seemed to be sizing Stonestar up; then, he nodded. "Yes. I believe the fire burned itself out in the middle of the night…or at least, that's when we got here."

Stonestar nodded, turning back to his Clan. "PeakClan, we must return home and see what the fire has done."

The Clan collected itself, rising slowly, Clanmates helping their injured friends stand up. Silverstreak's Clan began to stir as she gave Eaglestrike a nod, signaling that they would move as well.

"Have you made your decision yet?" Silverstreak asked Stonestar quietly.

"No." Stonestar looked away before she had a chance to read his expression; his tail rose into the air, and he led his Clan away, through the tunnel. Silverstreak watched them go, blinking as Northstar paused before entering the tunnel, a golden kit hanging in his jaws. He gave her the smallest of nods, before disappearing into the darkness.

"Do we get to keep our territory, or not?" Jag rumbled, padding forward.

"Stonestar hasn't made a decision yet," she answered, "but for the time being, we should act as though it is still ours. We need to be prepared if Stonestar does give it to us."

She turned to Brightflash and Thistle. "You two are welcome in our Clan. You can stay with us as long as you like; do you wish to become warriors?"

"I do!" Thistle chirped. "Forest made it sound really cool."

Silverstreak glanced at Forest, who grinned at her. "It is, Thistle. And you, Brightflash?"

Brightflash blinked slowly. "Well," she mewed, "I don't think we have anywhere else to go…." Reedrush touched the white she-cat's flank with her tail.

"We'll help you remember," she promised. "No one should have to forget the Kalan."

Brightflash blinked at her; then she gave a small, almost trembling smile. "Okay."

Silverstreak flicked her tail. "Alright then, let's go."

_Time to see how much of our home is left._

. . .

"Sp much of it is gone," Ravenwing whispered. The river flowed feebly behind them, completely unable to halt the raging inferno that had destroyed their territory.

The trees were blackened up to their branches, covered in ash and smoke. Most of the brush had been completely burned away.

"Oh," Blizzardkit said quietly; he seemed to have stumbled onto the charred remains of a mouse, its paws still outstretched as if it was trying to outrun the fire.

"It's okay," Reedrush murmured, pressing Blizzardkit against her side with her tail. "It's in mouse-StarClan now, okay?"

Silverstreak's heart seemed to be sinking in her chest; how much of their territory had been destroyed?

"You didn't happen to look at the camp, did you?" she asked Forest. He shook his head.

"You guys wouldn't have stayed there during the fire, so I didn't look," he meowed. "It won't be that bad…the fire can't have burned anything."

As they drew nearer, her apprehension grew, until she almost choked on the lump in her throat.

The blackened logs marking the entrance rose in her sight. Glancing back at the Clan, she slipped through them, the logs staining her fur with dark ash.

Every tree was charred; burnt branches had broken off and were strewn over the camp. The brambles were gone, as were some of the smaller branches they had strewn around the camp to defend themselves against PeakClan.

They began poking around the Clan slowly; ash had drifted into most of the dens, and their storage of moss and prey was gone. To their surprise, some of Ravenwing's herbs had survived; the mud coating the end of the log had shielded a few cobwebs and leaves from the full force of the fire.

"Well," Eaglestrike said finally, "there's not much left."

Silverstreak stared at the charred HighBranch, which now laid on the ground, and nodded.

"But there's still plenty here," Forest, ever the optimist, observed. "I mean, our dens are still here, they just need to be cleaned out a bit. And…I'm sure some prey survived, right? It's leaf-bare, most of the prey is hiding in their dens anyway. And there should be fish in the river and marsh…."

His eyes widened. "The marsh! I don't think the fire made it over the Thunderpath, and if it did, it couldn't go far with so much water in the marsh. There's plenty of prey there, Brightflash and Thistle were living there for awhile."

"The Thunderpath is dangerous," Eaglestrike observed. "It's not worth the prey."

"There's a tunnel we can get through, though, that will allow us to cross safely," Silverstreak remembered. "The marsh is actually a very good idea, if Stonestar lets us stay…."

"Will PeakClan be able to feed themselves? If they can't, I really don't think they'll let us stay on their territory," Frostfeather said skeptically.

"Their territory is mostly rock, so the fire didn't go far, I'm sure," Buck growled. "I'm sure they'll be fine, although they might have to lose a little weight."

"Well…we're probably going to spend the night here either way, so we need to fix things up," Silverstreak decided.

"Robinkit has to be with me, but the medicine den is blocked by branches," Ravenwing mewed.

Eaglestrike nuzzled her shoulder.

"I'll help."

Silverstreak licked her nose. "Buck, you help Eaglestrike too," she decided. "Let's see…Jag and Brightfire, you two can clear out some of the other branches around the camp. Place them around where the brambles used to be; we still need some sort of protection. Reedrush, Brightflash, Rainsplash, you three help clear out the ash from the dens. Just do the warrior den and the nursery for now…Buck and Eaglestrike can help Ravenwing clear out the ash in her den later." She paused for a moment, thinking. "Ravenwing, Shimmerpaw, I think it would be helpful if you two went and looked to see what herbs survived. Only gather some if there's enough there still to grow back. We'll need them in the future."

Ravenwing and Shimmerpaw both nodded, quickly leaving camp.

Silverstreak realized with surprise that she, Death, and Forest were the only cats left without jobs (besides Frostfeather, but she was holding Robinkit and the injured kit couldn't be set down).

"Death, you'll come with Forest and myself," she decided. "We'll look over the territory and see the rest of the damage."

"Can I come too?" Thistle asked eagerly. "I'm old enough, right?"

"He'd be an apprentice now, by Clan terms," Forest said with a glance towards Silverstreak.

"It's fine with me. Do you mind, Brightflash?"

Brightflash glanced over at her son, and gave a little shrug.

"Okay, then, you can come too. We'll see if we can catch some prey in the marsh, if we make it that far; I'm sure everyone's hungry."

Silverstreak flicked her tail to her patrol, and they quickly left camp.

"Pity we couldn't be alone," Forest murmured to Silverstreak, nudging her playfully. She let out a low purr, looking over her shoulder to see Death watching Thistle nervously. Her whiskers twitched with amusement, but it was quickly lost as the charred trees reminded her of all the Clan had lost.

_Even if we get to keep the territory, will it be worth it? Will Cane and Amber truly side with us? Can we defend ourselves against Lion…?_

She sighed quietly, brushing the troubling thoughts away. _One step at a time. We need to get the territory from Stonestar before we worry about anything else._

_When will they talk to us again? How will we know when he's made a decision? They're probably assessing their own damage right now. When they're finished with that…they'll contact us somehow. I guess that's what Northstar's nod meant? Is he going to try to meet us on the river again? We'll go there at nightfall, when we're finished with this patrol._

"Let's find the little river to the marsh, and we'll see how the Moss Clearing is looking," she decided, heading towards the welcome sound of running water. She sighed quietly as it came into view, disheartened by how low it was running.

They paused, lapping up a few mouthfuls of water, before continuing along the bank until they found the small stream that fed into it.

Forest was quiet as they walked, his mind clearly elsewhere although he kept his tail pressed against hers as they walked. Death was, for once, silent; the presence of Thistle was apparently unnerving him. Thistle was of apprentice age, but kit-fluff still clung to his fur. Days ago, Silverstreak would have smiled at his phobia, but the memory of what it had cost Robinkit was still fresh in her mind.

"Oh," she said softly, as the Moss Clearing appeared in front of them. The moss had been scorched, obliterated in places; the soft, spongy covering that she'd hoped the apprentices could train on was almost completely gone.

They padded forward to inspect the damage; the hard ground was all that touched their paws now.

Silverstreak shook her head sadly, and Forest let out a low growl.

"Stupid Twolegs. If they controlled themselves, this wouldn't have happened."

Silverstreak nosed his shoulder. "It was an accident, I'm sure. The Twolegs are strange…but they didn't want this to happen any more than we did. These fires hurt everyone, not just us." She shook her head. "Let's keep going."

Most of the slippery grass near the Black Stream was also gone, which made the mud easy to see and avoid. Silverstreak was almost thankful not to be slipping and sliding into invisible holes in the soft earth.

"This is the way I went…when I ran away," Forest mewed softly. Silverstreak blinked, understanding why he had seemed so vacant as they walked.

"I came this way, too, after you left…although I didn't know you were here," she said. "I was just sort of…wandering aimlessly. I missed you."

"I know." He nuzzled her side, and she purred in his ear.

Behind them, Death coughed awkwardly, reminding them of his presence. Thistle appeared to be more interested in a burnt fern than their flirting.

The roar of the Thunderpath buffeted their ears, and Silverstreak winced, shivering as the Thunderpath's gritty scent filled her nose. "I'm not sure we can stand going over it all the time just for food, you know?"

Forest shrugged. "Remember, I grew up in Twolegplace. It's not so scary to me."

"Nothing scares me!" Thistle declared loudly, fur bristling.

Death's ears flattened. "Hey, I'll admit it. I'm terrified."

Silverstreak smiled at him, and Forest trotted forward quickly towards the tunnel. He peered inside, and wrinkled his nose.

"The fire didn't burn away the stink…and it's still wet," he meowed. He stepped in with a gentle splash.

Wrinkling her nose as well, Silverstreak squeezed into the tunnel, wincing as the wall's slime rubbed off onto her already-dirty coat. She heard Death whimper behind her as he slipped in, followed behind an excited Thistle.

Silverstreak's eyes widened as they padded out of the tunnel together. The marsh was almost completely untouched; the fire had spread into the marsh, but the marsh was so damp that it had only touched a couple of hillocks.

Forest smiled. "This is more like it. If Stonestar kicks us out, maybe we should just lurk here until Lion takes care of PeakClan, eh?" He turned to her with a smile, but she could see in his eyes that he was only half joking.

She opened her mouth, catching as many scents as she could. There was still prey here; she could hear the call of birds.

Thistle bounced on his paws. "I bet I can catch a whole blackbird!" he yowled. "Forest showed me how. I can do it!"

He dashed away before Silverstreak or Forest could argue. Exchanging glances, the two of them chased after him.

Scenting was difficult in the marsh, Silverstreak quickly discovered, thanks to the water and mud. She quickly lost Thistle's scent, but Forest seemed intent on his quarry.

Then, he stumbled, falling into the muddy water with a splash and sending Silverstreak flying over him. She landed beside him with a huff, springing to her paws only to find Forest dragging her down into the water. She gasped, before the water closed over her head.

She broke the surface laughing, Forest by her side. His green eyes seemed to glow as he smiled her favorite crooked grin.

"If we weren't needed, I'd suggest hanging out here for awhile…just the two of us," he purred suggestively, licking her ear. Silverstreak relaxed against his touch, allowing herself to be lulled for a moment, before remembering Thistle.

"Come on, we need to find him," she mewed. "He could get hurt."

"He was surviving with his mother for a few days…and you saw how she is," Forest meowed, but he climbed back onto the muddy bank and shook his fur, sending brown droplets flying. Silverstreak turned away to avoid the spray, before crawling out herself.

"Look look look!" Thistle yowled ahead of them. Forest and Silverstreak rushed towards the sound, to find a little frog clutched in Thistle's jaws.

"I jumped farther than he could," the young tom purred, clearly overjoyed with his success.

Forest grinned at him. "Nice job, Thistle! I bet it was quite a leap. If we'd been a bit faster, we could have seen it." He winked at Silverstreak, and she felt her paws tingle with delight.

"We should see if we can catch anything else," Silverstreak meowed, "although I'm sure your mother will be very happy to see how well you can hunt already."

Thistle's face fell. "I don't think she'll care…." He said quietly, looking down at his paws. Forest and Silverstreak exchanged glances; Silverstreak felt another pang of pity for the blue-gray tom.

"Well, the Clan will be proud of you, and Brightflash should be too," Forest meowed, giving him a bracing nudge with his nose.

"I think I smell a bird over here, I'll try and catch it," Silverstreak meowed.

"Just don't disappear on us; I remember how badly you hunt when you're alone for a long time."

Silverstreak let out a quiet purr, knowing that he was remembering the many times she'd gone 'hunting' to clear her head while Forest was injured.

"I'll be right back," she promised, before flattening herself to the mud and creeping into the reeds.

Hunting in the reeds was distracting, more difficult than she was used to. They blocked her sight completely, even worse than the brambles of her forest home. The mud seemed to coat everything, including her belly and paws, and it cloaked the scents from her. With the reeds muffling the sound and mud muffling the scents, she had to rely on her eyes.

She saw a flutter of orange and red in front of her, and quickly crouched as the blackbird she'd scented made itself visible. It fluttered up onto the reeds above her. Grinning at her luck – _Thank you, StarClan – _she sprang, catching the bird neatly in her jaws and killing it. However, she wasn't prepared for her landing; the mud gave way beneath her paws, plunging her into the water. In her surprise, she opened her jaws, sending the bird into the water.

"Foxdung!" she spat, plunging her muzzle into the water, searching to find it. Her fall had stirred up a black cloud of dirt and mud, making it impossible to see anything.

Her muzzle touched feathers, and she grabbed at it, only to find a little fish who'd gotten too close to the strange new thing in his puddle flopping in her mouth. She spat it out, sending both it and the sodden bird flopping into the mud. The little fish quickly flopped back into the water, disappearing into the mud.

With a sigh, she climbed out of the water, her fur soggy and muddy. Picking up her sodden bird, she headed back to Forest.

Forest's whiskers twitched as he saw her. "What happened? You fall in?"

She gave a noncommittal grunt, and his crooked grin grew wider. "Take heed of this noble warrior, Thistle," he instructed, "for forest cats are the masters of hunting and—" He broke off leaping backwards as Silverstreak shook herself, sending dirty water flying into his face. He coughed, sticking out his now mud-covered tongue.

"Gross, Silverstreak!" he complained. "Why, if this poor, innocent, impressionable young cat wasn't here, I'd—"

"Get her!" Thistle cried, springing onto Silverstreak. Taken aback, she fell into the reeds with Thistle on her chest, the frog still clutched in his jaws. She winced as the slimy frog dropped from his mouth, landing on her neck.

"Get her, Thistle!" Forest ordered, and Thistle sank his sharp teeth into Silverstreak's ear with a muffled cry of triumph. Silverstreak let out a yelp and shook her head, trying to shake him off, but he held on with the determination of a badger.

"Forest, quite encouraging him!" she ordered, dropping her bird to the side. "Thistle, get off me!"

"Victory!" Thistle yowled, releasing her ear and springing away. He grinned at Forest. "I did good, right?"

Forest's whiskers twitched as Silverstreak got to her paws, struggling to regain her dignity and composure. "Yes, Thistle. You did good."

. . .

Forest managed to catch two black birds for himself, and they headed back to the tunnel. Death was waiting for them, a frog and a water vole next to him.

"You guys ran off without me," he pouted. "I went looking for you, but all I found was mud and prey."

Forest's whiskers twitched. "Sounds like good finds to me."

Death blinked at Silverstreak curiously. "What happened to you? You look all…ick."

"Let's go," Silverstreak growled. Death blinked at Forest, who grinned.

They squeezed through the tunnel, heading this time for GreenRocks. Just as Silverstreak had expected, the moss on the rocks had been burned away.

Death looked over the scene with a frown on his face; something was bothering him. Then, his golden eyes lit up and he bounded away.

"Death?" Silverstreak asked, and the others quickly followed him.

"Hey! Look!" Death exclaimed excitedly from behind a boulder. Drawing closer, Silverstreak recognized the tunnel in which he had been hiding after Robinkit's accident.

"The Moss Tunnel?" she asked, and Death turned to grin at her.

"Look, the rocks protected it!" he meowed. "There's still moss."

Silverstreak blinked with surprise, seeing that it was true; the tunnel was covered in thick, soft moss. "Death, that's great!" she purred, giving him a nudge. "Ravenwing will love this. Forest, make yourself useful and collect the moss."

Forest blinked at her tone; her eyes narrowed, and the brown tabby meekly padded forward, using his claws to scrape the moss from the stone.

"Leave enough so that it'll grow back," Silverstreak ordered. Forest shot her a glance, but complied.

"Good job, Death," Silverstreak said again, and Death positively glowed at the praise. He darted off towards camp, a spring in his step. As soon as Forest collected as much moss as he could carry, the rest of the group followed.

They entered camp, and Silverstreak smiled; the camp already looked better with the branches around the camp and most of the ash cleared away. The smell of ash still hung around the camp, but it wasn't overpowering; it was almost comforting, a reminder that StarClan and Ashstir were watching over them no matter what.

Silverstreak left her prey in the center of camp, before going from den to den to check up on everyone. Everything was coming along well, and she was satisfied with the day's progress.

She looked for a place to call the Clan together; the HighBranch, swept to the side like the other burned branches, was obviously no longer an option.

She settled for simply staying on the ground and yowling for their attention. Quickly, she shared all that she and the patrol had found, while praising Thistle for his catch and Death for his discovery. Both toms were clearly pleased by the praise, and she smiled inwardly; they both needed reassurance that they were important and capable members of the Clan.

She finished with an explanation that, if they got the territory, times would be tough. Still, she made sure everyone understood that it was not impossible to survive with their limited resources; they would simply have to adapt. The Clan seemed satisfied with her words, and when she finished they broke apart to share the meager fresh-kill and speak amongst themselves.

There were a few other things she wanted to do, but she had decided to wait until Stonestar made his decision; after all, there was no point in making themselves into a true Clan if they didn't have a territory for themselves.

Frostfeather surprised Silverstreak by coming over with Ravenwing, bearing a blackbird in her mouth.

"I thought the three of us could share," she offered, "like old times."

Silverstreak sat down with them, allowing Frostfeather to take the first bite; she was eating for four, after all.

"It's hard to believe that it's only been…what, two moons? A few days more?" Frostfeather asked. "Two moons ago, BirchClan was still whole."

"Two moons ago, we didn't know any of these cats," Ravening mewed, glancing around the camp.

_Two moons ago, I didn't know Forest. _"It's strange," Silverstreak agreed, "hard to understand how so much could change so quickly. But…you know, I don't regret it. Times have been tough, but being with you two, on this journey together…building this Clan…I don't regret a thing. Except leaving you…."

Frostfeather rolled her eyes. "We're so over that, Silverstreak, don't keep beating yourself up," she meowed, "and if you hadn't you wouldn't have found Forest, right? I'm pretty sure he's worth it." Her green eyes sparkled, and Silverstreak flushed.

"I don't know what you mean," she meowed, looking down at her paws. Frostfeather shook her head.

"Transparent as ever," she meowed. "You two have been touching ever since he came back."

Silverstreak looked up at Ravenwing for confirmation, and the black she-cat nodded. "It's fairly obvious," she affirmed. Silverstreak blushed.

"I'm glad he's back."

"I'm sure 'glad' doesn't even _begin _to cover it." Silverstreak looked up to see Frostfeather grinning. "I'm happy for you, Silverstreak, I really am. He's a good cat, even if his smile is lopsided. But I bet you like that."

"I do," Silverstreak mewed, and Frostfeather shook her head as if in amazement.

"Sometimes, I don't understand your taste…but I love you anyway, Silverstreak." She bit into the bird again, and Silverstreak followed, smiling as the warm taste flooded her mouth. This was where she belonged, with her friends and her Clan. And Forest.

. . .

It was only as the sun began to sink that she remembered her plans to see if Northstar was waiting for her at the river. Excusing herself from the group, she quickly left camp, padding into the forest.

A pale figure, stark against the darkness of the night, caught her attention immediately. She had to stop her fur from bristling. Then, she blinked as she realized another cat was beside him: Stonestar.

She hesitated on the opposite bank, before picking her way over the stepping stones to their side.

"Hello," she mewed stiffly, ignoring the golden glow of Northstar's eyes as she gazed at Stonestar. "Have you made a decision?" She tried to keep the nervous tremor out of her voice.

"I have." Stonestar paused, and Silverstreak's heart was pounding so hard in her ears that she thought it might explode.

"PeakClan does not want rogues in its territory. We have claimed it as ours, fought for it in the past against rogues…we do not want to back down." Silverstreak swallowed, and Stonestar's ears flattened. "…However," he said slowly, as if the words pained him, "we have no other choice. If this Lion cat is coming – and Northstar assures me that he is – then we truly have no choice. Do you think we can stand together against him?"

"I don't know," Silverstreak admitted. "I'll be honest with you, we don't know how many new cats Lion has collected. Right now, I think we'd have a good shot…but again, Lion's probably amassing his own warriors, and while we have numbers, we don't have strength. We've made arrangements to speak with Twolegplace bosses the night after tomorrow; if they help us, then I think we can hold our own. But your warriors…they aren't as strong as they should be. I don't mean to offend you…but you know the end result of your raid against us. If numbers were all that mattered, you would have beaten us."

Stonestar sighed quietly. "I know this. It is only because my Clan is confused and weak right now that they would even consider an alliance with you. We will make them stronger, I assure you. When this is over, PeakClan will be a force to be reckoned with."

Silverstreak nodded. "Thank you, Stonestar, for your help and for this gift. I assure you, none of us ever meant for this to happen when we first settled here."

"Any PeakClan deaths will be on your head. Your Clan will be held responsible." Stonestar's yellow-amber eyes were as hard as stone, sharp. Silverstreak's heart sank, but she nodded; she couldn't run away from the deaths that her war would cause.

"I understand. We will take full responsibility. But there is one thing you need to understand, Stonestar. We are not rogues. We are warriors, Clan cats just like you. We aren't going to run away from this fight, and we are going to keep our territory until our Clan ceases to exist, whether that is in a battle with Lion, or with PeakClan. We are warriors."

Stonestar nodded, then turned to Northstar, who took a step forward. A low growl built in Silverstreak's throat, but she bit it back; like it or not, they were allies.

Northstar gave her a frosty smile. "You fought me when Toxin was manipulating us," he meowed, and Silverstreak's eyes narrowed cautiously. She nodded. "You lost. You would have died," Northstar said flatly. "You have the soft heart of a forest cat; you're like a newborn kit in the heat of battle. You don't have the strength or hatred to kill."

Silverstreak opened her mouth, anger rising up within her, but Northstar was still speaking. "And that is why you nearly died. In the heat of battle, you doubted yourself. You were right, there was something wrong with our battle, but it didn't matter. If it wasn't for that single drop of blood, you would have died.

"You will doubt yourself when fighting Lion. It does not matter what he says or does, you will doubt yourself at the moment of truth. From his name, we can assume that he is powerfully built, and if he defeated Slaughter, then he is utterly ruthless. In short, he is me, only even more dangerous. If you couldn't kill me, you can never kill Lion. And that is why I will train you."

Silverstreak's eyes widened; Northstar's own golden eyes were as cold as ice.

"This is not a choice of yours, to be trained or not," Stonestar rumbled. "This is the only thing that will seal our deal. You will train with Northstar every night, or your Clan will leave the forest and you will have PeakClan's fall on your conscience forever."

Northstar smiled slightly, fangs glinting. "And we know how troubled your conscience is."

Silverstreak's heart was pounding, but it felt as if her veins were filled with ice. _This…this is my choice? To lose my home…or train with…?_

_I can't let my Clan lose this. This is their home…and I can't defeat Lion by myself. I have…I have to do this. For them. For my Clanmates. For my friends and my home and Forest._

She swallowed, her tongue licked her nose despite herself. Then, she nodded.

"I will."


	42. C h a p t e r 41: Northstar

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**41: Northstar**

He smirked at Silverstreak's expression; she was trying to hide her dismay at having to accept their deal, but had always been easy to read, one of her many weaknesses.

"Good," Stonestar growled. "Your training will begin tomorrow night."

She blinked, surprise flashing over her face. "So soon?"

"Aren't you the one so impatient to toughen PeakClan up? You can't accuse them of being weak when you are weak yourself," Northstar meowed. "Run home to your little Clan, tell them of your great success…just be sure to get here tomorrow night."

Silverstreak's ears flattened, but she nodded. "I'll be here," she promised, before slipping away, making her way back over the river and disappearing into the mass of burnt trees.

Stonestar turned to Northstar. "I hope you know what you're doing," he growled, before heading in the direction of PeakClan's burnt camp. There was mistrust in the gray tom's amber eyes as he went, but Northstar did not blame him; PeakClan's leader knew what Northstar had done, after all.

_Dapplefern made sure of that, _he thought grimly, remembering the turmoil when PeakClan had returned to their burnt home. Dapplefern had scurried into Stonestar's den. He'd waited until she'd left, before entering himself.

"Dapplefern told me something very interesting," Stonestar had said, amber eyes narrowed. "She seems to believe that you're a traitor."

Northstar had let out a low growl under his breath, but then sighed; there was no point in denying it. Whether Stonestar believed it or not, Northstar had, for once, been in the right.

"I did," he had said, raising his chin defiantly, bearing no shame. "It had to be done. The war between our Clans will tear both of us apart. I warned Silverstreak about the coming attack so that she could prepare. It was a calculated risk; PeakClan would be unable to crush her group of rogues. At the same time, I knew Silverstreak's cats would not kill or seriously harm PeakClan; they're too noble for all that." His gaze had been steely. "I did what I had to in order to preserve PeakClan in the long run."

Stonestar had been displeased, but Stonestar also knew that the war between the Clans was only hurting them both, leaving them woefully unprepared for their coming war with Lion.

"Tensions between the Clans have eased," he had said slowly. "Perhaps we can make an arrangement with them after all…."

And here Northstar stood now, watching Silverstreak go. He sighed quietly, shaking his head.

_What did I get myself into, when I saved Rosedapple's life? _He wondered, before heading towards the Peak himself.

Entering the camp seemed to almost pain him, as it had before; the trees were charred and black, ash strewn over the hard ground. Still, PeakClan could have been off far worse, if they'd lived in the forest…and if the forest Clan hadn't come to save them.

He let out an irritated growl. _If PeakClan wasn't so darn badger-headed, they could have saved themselves. Instead, here we are, giving our territory away in exchange for a few training sessions to help defeat a cat that Silverstreak brought upon us in the first place…._

He sighed, feeling weary; he'd spent most of the day helping PeakClan rebuild their camp, moving branches, hunting for prey, sweeping out ash, and scouting the territory to see the damage done by the fire. It was extensive, but not nearly as bad as it could have been; PeakClan's rocky territory had stopped the fire from spreading too far.

He glanced at the fresh-kill pile, but it was dangerously slow. Hunger swiped sharp claws over his belly, but he ignored it, padding into the warrior den instead and curling up on the hard-packed dirt. He'd grown accustomed to having a mossy nest to sleep in, like that of a forest cat.

_Such weakness, _he growled to himself as he rested his muzzle on his paws, the urge to rest already beginning to drag him away. _I'm practically a forest cat myself now._

. . .

He awoke early the next day; the Clan wasn't going to mend itself on its own. He selected a mouse from the fresh-kill pile, before padding into the nursery.

Rosedapple looked up from her four kits as he entered, and smiled. There was a strange clarity to her blue eyes as she blinked at him that he could not recall seeing before. He flicked his tail to her, and she blinked, puzzled.

"Your kits can be without you now, for the time it takes to eat a mouse, at least," Northstar growled. "You can eat outside like the rest of your Clan."

Rosedapple paled. "Northstar, I don't think…."

"You said that you would, when the kits didn't need to be watched all the time," Northstar growled. "Brackenkit and Birdkit took on their first opponent yesterday. They don't need to be watched…and Streamkit and Puddlekit will be fine. Come on, I'm not taking no for an answer. You eat outside with me, or not at all today."

Rosedapple glanced at her kits again, before nodding, slowly rising to her paws. She looked anxious, and Northstar touched her pelt with his tail gently, before padding out of the den. Rosedapple followed, blinking as the sharp light hit her face.

"Come on," Northstar prompted, lying down and patting the ground beside him with his tail. Rosedapple obliged, lying down with him. She was obviously nervous, feeling the stares of the Clan on her pelt. Northstar had known that the Clan would take interest in the events of the strangest member of their Clan, but he hadn't thought that some would actually pause in their duties to gawk.

"Ignore them," he growled. "You need to eat, relax. Talk to me."

Rosedapple took a trembling bite of the mouse, staring at her paws. "Looks like rain," she mewed quietly. Northstar looked up at the sky, noticing with surprise that dark clouds had indeed rolled in.

_You're a little late there, StarClan, _he thought crossly, but he nodded to her. "Indeed. The forest will recover more quickly with rain."

Rosedapple nodded, and the two of them ate in silence. Northstar's pelt seemed to crawl; this was not how he'd envisioned Rosedapple's first meal with her Clanmates again.

"What are you doing out of your cave?" a voice sneered. Northstar glanced over his shoulder to see Dapplefern smirking at them. "I don't know why you'd bother," Dapplefern leered. "The Clan doesn't trust you, Rosedapple…or you, Northstar. I made sure of that." Her green eyes glittered.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken about Stonestar's trust," Northstar said calmly, "and you don't speak for the entire Clan."

Dapplefern bared her fangs. "Stop protecting the freak," she hissed.

Northstar was on his paws before he knew what had happened. "Care to say that again?" he snarled.

Dapplefern simply smiled. "Freak."

Northstar hissed, preparing to spring.

"Stop!" Rosedapple's cry made him turn. Her face was pale underneath her silver-gray fur, and her blue eyes were misty.

"I told you it wouldn't work," she whispered. "I told you I couldn't come back, not to the Clan…let her go, Northstar. There's no reason you should get in trouble, because—" She broke off, turning away and fleeing into the nursery. Northstar stared as her thick tail vanished into the shadows, before turning to Dapplefern with a hiss.

"You have no right to do this to here!" he spat. "Rosedapple did nothing wrong, to you or any other cat in this Clan!"

Dapplefern grinned, white fangs glinting. "She didn't have to do anything," she meowed. "She's friends with you."

Northstar's eyes widened, allowing Dapplefern the moment she needed to dark away, disappearing from camp. He felt the Clan's stares upon him, but he ignored them, ducking back into the nursery.

Rosedapple had her face buried in Brackenkit's soft fur when he entered. The golden kit blinked up at Northstar, clearly puzzled, but he allowed it because his mother was obviously distressed.

"Rosedapple," Northstar said quietly.

"Go away."

"Rosedapple, none of this is your fault. The Clan just needs time. Dapplefern was only trying to hurt me, not you—"

"But did anyone else disagree? Did anyone else speak up or defend me? They just sat back and watched, waiting to see what would happen to the 'freak'. They don't care about me." She lifted her face from Brackenkit, and he quickly pressed himself against her belly. "The Clan doesn't care about me, Northstar. I'm not sure they ever did."

"Blackmoon cares," Northstar growled. "And I…care. Rabbitpaw cares too. The Clan isn't against you, they just aren't used to you." His eyes softened. "Lightstar's gone now, Rosedapple, and the Clan will have more pressing things to worry about than your past. You just have to give it some time."

Rosedapple turned away, staring at the den wall. "Go away, Northstar."

Northstar stared at her, uncertain of what to do; he was not skilled in these affairs. He didn't know how she-cats thought. He could turn a Clan against a cat with the twitch of his whiskers, but how much did he know about restoring one's reputation?

Anger surged through him suddenly; why did Dapplefern, the spiteful she-cat, have to ruin everything? Why did PeakClan have to cling onto their petty gossip and past affairs? Rosedapple was a beautiful, intelligent cat, one that he cared for very much. But it seemed that she was just as dead inside as their burnt camp.

An idea suddenly occurred to him, and his golden eyes glinted. "Rosedapple. Get up."

She glanced at him. "Northstar, please, just go. I want to be alone."

Northstar's eyes narrowed. "Rosedapple, get up. Now, or I'll drag you out of camp. I care very little about my reputation; I don't care what PeakClan thinks of me anymore. It probably won't matter in a moon or so anyway."

Rosedapple's ears flattened. "No, Northstar."

Northstar took a step forward. "Don't think that was an idle threat. Come on. We're going hunting. The kits can wait, and what the Clan thinks isn't important right now." He let out a low, warning growl. "I mean it. I'm not letting you lie here and rot."

"Northstar, I appreciate you trying, I do…but things just aren't working out here. I don't want my kits to grow up ashamed to have me as their mother."

"So come with me, and they won't."

Rosedapple blinked at him for a moment. Then, she heaved herself to her paws with a quiet sigh. "Fine. If it will make you happy, I'll come."

"Good."

He led her out of the den, ignoring the stares and curious murmurs of the Clan as they headed towards the camp entrance together. Rosedapple pressed her pelt against his; he could feel her trembling beneath her thick fur.

"You're fine," he murmured to her. "The worst they can hurt you with is words, and you shouldn't care about that. Just trust me."

She relaxed slightly against his side as the camp was left behind them, and they began padding down the Peak. Northstar realized that, save for when she had fled to the Pool of Stars with the others, this was the first time she had left camp since he'd saved her life.

_She's been cooped up in that den for moons, taking care of kits that she never wanted._

"Everything's destroyed," Rosedapple whispered as they found their way to the bottom. "It's…awful." Her blue eyes were round. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Just come on," Northstar ordered, flicking his tail and breaking into a quick trot, heading downstream. Rosedapple followed behind him as quickly as she could, but she was out of shape from lying in the nursery for days on end.

"Where are we going? Everything here is burnt."

"Not everything," Northstar meowed, ducking to the side, moving towards the charred forest. Rosedapple followed quickly, right on his tail.

"You see this? All this?" Northstar asked, stopping as they came upon a small clearing. The remains of burned leaves covered the ground, and the burnt grass was spotted with fallen branches.

Rosedapple nodded, her tail touching his flank. "Yes. I see it. Everything's dead."

"Indeed, it is." Northstar motioned for her to follow him as he picked his way through the burnt vegetation. "Our forest was like this, too, or so my mentor, Brackenheart, always told me."

"The cat you named Brackenkit for?"

Northstar nodded. "Moons ago, my Clan wasn't a Clan at all. We were rogues, scattered over the forest and mountains." He sat down in the leaves, motioning for Rosedapple to join him. She sat down next to him, frowning down at the leaves. "They lived a good life. They were free, had plenty of prey in their bellies; they were happy. But then, the forest burned, and the rogues fled to the mountains. They didn't think that the forest would ever grow back; such a thing had never happened to them before.

"Then new cats came, real Clan cats, and they claimed the forest for themselves. The mountain rogues laughed at their foolishness, thinking that the Clan cats would surely start to death or freeze. But when newleaf rolled around, the forest burst into bloom; it healed itself from the fire. The Clan cats flourished in the territory that the rogues had so carelessly given away. The Clan cats were fat and happy…the rogues were left out in the cold." His eyes were clouded, and he blinked several times, before turning to Rosedapple.

"I'm sorry that happened," she mewed, "and I can only assume that those events led to everything that's happening now…but I don't understand why you brought me here. We granted our territory to the new Clan, sure…but we didn't have a choice."

"I'm not talking about the new Clan. Rosedapple, right now this forest seems dead, barren. And like the mountain rogues, we might just want to give up on it. But we can't, Rosedapple. Just because things are dark now…doesn't mean they always will be." He moved the leaves with one paw, exposing a few tender shoots of grass. "Sometimes a little life is hiding just underneath the surface."

Rosedapple stared at the grass, then turned towards him, blue eyes misty. Then, suddenly, she moved forward, pressing her face against his chest. She was trembling slightly, but a quiet purr rumbled in her throat. He could feel it through his fur, and to his surprise her warmth was oddly comforting.

"I think I understand what you mean," she mewed, moving to look up at him. "Thank you, Northstar."

A white flash startled them both as lightning flashed over the sky. Moments later, the roar of thunder answered the wild light, and Northstar stood.

"It's going to rain, we should return to camp," he meowed. Rosedapple nodded, but her gaze was still fixed on the young blades of grass. Then, she turned to look up, into the sky.

There was another rumble, and the rain suddenly burst loose, a few drops splashing at first, quickly multiplying into a massive silver, shimmering sheet. Northstar moved towards Rosedapple, but her muzzle was still turned upward, pointing straight up at the sky, her blue eyes closed. Then, she stuck out her tongue, bright pink against the gray and black of the landscape. Rain splashed onto her little pink tongue, and she opened her eyes to stare at him. Then, for the first time he could remember, Rosedapple grinned.

"The rain…isn't it beautiful?" she asked. "It'll feed the forest, and the forest will re-grow, just like you said…and we'll come back here, just you and I, and we'll see that clearing filled with grass and ferns and plants." Her eyes were glowing brighter than he'd ever seen. "Thank you, Northstar. Thank you." She pressed her muzzle against his shoulder. Northstar almost wanted to rest his head on hers, but he didn't know why. He moved away from her instead, flicking his tail.

"Come on, Rosedapple, it's raining even harder. I don't want you to get sick."

The two of them broke into a run, racing towards the Peak. All the while, Rosedapple was smiling, as if each drop of rain replenished her a little bit more.

Rosedapple ducked into the nursery as soon as they entered camp, shaking her fur dry away from the kits. Northstar watched, resisting the urge to shake himself, knowing that his added power would surely drench the little scraps of fur despite his best efforts.

"I want to eat with you again, tomorrow," Rosedapple meowed over the drumming of the rain against the hard ground. "Would…would that be okay?" Her face was as hopeful as that of a naïve kit's, and Northstar couldn't say no.

"Of course," he meowed. "I'm going to visit Rabbitpaw, I haven't seen her today…I'll see you tomorrow, Rosedapple. For breakfast."

Rosedapple let out a quiet purr. "Yes, Northstar, of course. Thank you." She touched his shoulder with her nose, sending an odd tingling feeling running up Northstar's spine. He glanced down at the four kits, before heading out of the den, back into the pouring rain.

He squinted, trying to spot the medicine den in the downpour; he padded inside hurriedly, resisting the urge to shake himself. Most of the cats injured in the battle had rallied themselves after the fire, knowing that their Clan needed all the help they could get. Only a few still remained in the medicine den.

Blackmoon looked up as he entered. "Hello, Northstar," he said cautiously; they had been uneasy with each other since their last long conversation in the forest. "Rosedapple is well, I hope?"

Northstar nodded, before padding towards Rabbitpaw. She blinked at him with bright, eager eyes.

"Guess what, guess what?" she squealed. Northstar sat down beside her, yawning slowly and stretching; the chill of the rain had made him feel slightly stiff.

"What?" he asked warily; often Rabbitpaw wouldn't answer until he guessed, even though (or perhaps because) she knew it irritated him.

Apparently the news was too good to withhold, however, for she blurted, "Blackmoon says I can start training again soon!"

Northstar glanced towards Blackmoon for confirmation. The black tom let out a quiet purr. "It's been more than a moon since her accident," he meowed, "and she was okay when she was climbing down the Peak during the fire, and back up afterwards. You'll have to be gentle at first, but I believe she's ready."

"Her legs are cured?"

Blackmoon's whiskers twitched. "Healing isn't magic, Northstar. She can walk just fine, and run too, but she'll need to be careful when jumping or fighting. Her legs will probably always be a little sore, especially when it is cold or rains."

Rabbitpaw nodded quickly. "They're kinda achey right now…but it's not bad!" she added hastily. "I really really want to train! I'm so excited!"

Northstar found himself smiling; he touched Rabbitpaw's head with his nose. "That's great news, Rabbitpaw. I'm very happy for you. I guess I'll have to think of some training plans…we'll need to figure out what you've already learned, and what still remains to teach you…."

He realized that although he was nervous about the responsibility of training her, part of him was truly excited. He knew Rabbitpaw had the potential to become a truly great warrior. She loved her Clan dearly, and he knew she would do anything she had to in order to protect and provide for her Clanmates.

_Most of my work has already been done for me, _Northstar thought. _She's almost of age to be a warrior anyway…I suppose Mousepaw will be made a warrior without her._

"Mousepaw's excited because Stonestar said he gets to be assessed tomorrow, if it's not raining," Rabbitpaw mewed. "He might be a warrior soon. That just means we'll have to train extra so he doesn't have to have his ceremony without me, okay? I don't want him to have to be in front of everyone alone, it'll scare him. He's nervous around a lot of other cats."

_He's nervous all the time, no matter how many cats are around, _Northstar thought. _He's probably scared of his own reflection. Mouseheart should be his warrior name._

"Can you tell him the good news, too?" Rabbitpaw asked eagerly. "I just know he'll want to know. And I bet Volepaw will, too…." She flushed under her fur, and Northstar remembered that she had a crush on the brown apprentice.

_But he likes Icepaw, doesn't he? _Northstar wondered, trying to remember. He shook his head; keeping up with apprentice love-triangles was simply too confusing. Apprentices didn't know what they felt when they were young; they didn't know what true love was yet.

_Birdpaw and I…we would probably never have sorted our feelings out, even if she hadn't died. Even if she'd felt the same. When you're an apprentice…everything always seems to be changing. _He let out a low breath, and realized that for a long time, he'd kept Birdpaw's memory close to him, as close as that of Brackenheart, although he had Birdpaw had hardly ever shared a conversation. _Emotions like that are powerful, hard to let go…but I have to. Birdpaw is dead, in StarClan, and…I will never see her there._

He closed his eyes, and when he breathed out again, he could feel something loosening inside of him, as if the memory of Birdpaw was escaping his body and traveling far, far away.

_Rosedapple will be in StarClan someday. Rabbitpaw, too…most of PeakClan will find their way there, if not all. But I…I will be left behind. I have failed their judgment. Brackenheart still cares for me, or at least the cat he knew as Northpaw, when he was alive…but he can't save me. I'm already doomed to the Dark Forest, and there's very little I can do about that._

He opened his eyes, to see Rabbitpaw staring at him quizzically. _I'm her mentor now. I'm the cat she has to look up to. What will she do, when she passes away as an elder, probably as full of energy still as she as now, and finds that her mentor isn't there? What will Rosedapple do, when she finds that one of her only friends didn't make it there to be with her? All she'll have left is Blackmoon…._

"Northstar? You okay?"

He glanced at Rabbitpaw. "Yes. I'm fine," he growled. Rabbitpaw cocked her head to one side, watching him with her blue-green eyes.

"Are you sure? You looked…sad. Really sad."

"I'm fine," he insisted, but he could tell from Rabbitpaw's expression that she didn't believe him. Fearing that she would pursue her line of questioning, as was her way, he rose to his paws.

"If I see Mousepaw, I'll tell him for you okay? I'll see you tomorrow, perhaps we can begin training them."

Rabbitpaw nodded, but didn't smile, still watching him as though she was searching for something. He turned away from her, and left the den.

He hadn't thought he'd see Mousepaw, but the golden tom was leaving Stonestar's den as Northstar left Blackmoon's.

"Mousepaw," he called, and the golden-brown tom turned towards him with a startled expression.

"Y-y-yes?" he stammered nervously, ears flat against his head. Northstar didn't want to stand in the rain with him, but there were no thick branches or leaves to duck underneath anymore.

"Rabbitpaw can begin training again soon," he meowed. "She wanted me to tell you, since she knew you were going to become a warrior soon."

Mousepaw's eyes widened. "R-really? That's g-great! I was just t-talking to Stones-star about it."

Northstar frowned. "You were talking about her training?"

"No, about her bec-c-coming a warrior," Mousepaw mewed. "I want to wait until she c-can. I don't want to be there alone…what if I stammer saying I d-do when he asks if I'll protect my C-Clan and s-stuff? I n-n-need her with me. And I don't want to l-l-leave her behind, anyway. She wouldn't sh-show it, but it would make her sad."

Northstar blinked slowly, surprised by Mousepaw's love for his sister; he knew they cared for each other, but when he had been an apprentice he wouldn't have stalled his warrior ceremony for anything.

_Maybe it just meant more to me…the power, the recognition. Mousepaw doesn't care about any of that, and neither does Rabbitpaw. Maybe…maybe that makes them good warriors. They're willing to give up something for each other, even though it's something that's important to most cats. They care about each other._

Northstar felt sadness sweep over him, suddenly; he'd never had anyone like that, besides Brackenheart, any cat that he would have done anything for and known that the other would do the same in return without a second thought. He'd never been close to his fellow apprentices; he'd always been an outcast, even with his own father. Brackenheart had been his one true friend.

_And he still is, in StarClan. He's the only one who still cares for me…or at least cares for who I used to be._

Northstar blinked to find that Mousepaw had already left, ducking into the apprentice den. Northstar quickly turned, moving into the warrior den and lying down on his patch of dirt. Some of the other warriors let out quiet growls as he entered, hissing at the wetness he brought with him. He curled up, resting his head on his black paws.

_I had no friends in FrozenClan after Brackenheart died…only my cold father and poisonous advisors, like Crowtalon. But here, in PeakClan, a Clan that barely deserves to even be called such, I have friends. I have Rosedapple and Rabbitpaw, and I had Blackmoon as well before I scared him away with my scheming and unearthing of secrets. I had Stonestar's respect, before I revealed myself as a traitor and a liar._

_And what does the rest of the Clan think of me? I'm a hero for saving Rosedapple and perhaps Rabbitpaw…but at the same time, I am an outsider, and strange because I continue to support Rosedapple even when they do not. And I will continue to, until the Clan recognizes her for the cat that she is, not the cat that Lightstar's betrayal made her into._

He listened to the drumming of the rain against the ground outside. _Today…she seemed to change, as if she finally understood what I've been saying all along, that even when things seem hopeless they can still change, for anyone, even her…._

He sighed quietly. _I just hope she keeps up her recovery. She can't let the Clan get to her for the time being; they just have to get used to her again, to get to know her. She's an amazing cat, if they would just spare a few moments of their time to listen…._

He opened his eyes, staring out of the den entrance, watching the silver rain shimmer. His ears suddenly pricked, and he sat up; he had his first training session with Silverstreak that night!

_It will give me a bit of experience for training Rabbitpaw, I suppose, _he thought. _Although she's probably a faster learner than Silverstreak. _He snorted under his breath, earning a glare from the cat trying to sleep next to him. Ignoring her, he rose to his paws and left the den again.

His ears flattened; the rain seemed to have no intention of stopping its descent.

_It's probably close to time now, I should get going, _he thought, heading for the camp entrance.

Going down the Peak was slow; the rocks were slicker than he had ever seen them, and he knew he might not be as lucky as Rabbitpaw if he fell.

He shook himself as he reached the bottom, sending water flying into the scattered raindrops. He scowled – rain was nice, but being wet was getting old already – before heading towards the river. It had already started to swell thanks to the new rainfall; normally it would be a good thing, but it would only make crossing the river to train Silverstreak that much harder in the long run.

His fur ruffled at the very thought; he was not going to enjoy their training sessions. Sure, beating Silverstreak to the ground would be great fun, but eventually her soft-hearted whininess would push him to the breaking point, and he would snap, do something incredibly rash and mousebrained, and then suffer the consequences later.

_That's practically the story of my life, anyways._

He sprang over the stepping stones neatly, nearly slipping and crashing on his side. His fur bristled as he regained his footing, continuing to the opposite bank. He padded up the bank, then stopped, searching for any sign of Silverstreak's silver pelt.

He heard a crackle to his left, and turned, seeing the silver she-cat striding forward. Her blue eyes seemed almost as if they were glowing, and for once she didn't look angry when she looked at him; her mind was clearly elsewhere, probably back at camp with her mewling rogues.

"A little jumpy, Northstar?" she asked frostily.

Northstar let out a quiet grunt. "We need to train."

"I thought we would go to the Moss Clearing," she meowed. He blinked, puzzled by the name, and she flicked her tail. His fur bristled at the idea of being led by the silver leader, but he followed her into her charred forest. She led him to a strange clearing; burnt moss seemed to cover the ground, and it wasn't hard to guess why the Clearing was named such.

Silverstreak turned towards him, blinking slowly. "Well, how exactly is this going to work, now? If I'm going to waste my time with you, I'd like some sort of plan—" She broke off with a gasp of surprise as Northstar suddenly launched himself forward, knocking Silverstreak off her paws and slamming her into the hard ground, pressing her nose into the remains of the moss.

"First rule," he hissed, thoroughly enjoying himself as she struggled in his grasp, "there is no plan, and there are no rules."

**AN: Northstar isn't so good at spotting parallels. Like the ones between Rosedapple's situation, and his with StarClan. Ah well, poor boy, he's been through a lot. ): **

**I've been updating rather rapidly for some reason, eh. Probably because I'm avoiding homework…?**


	43. C h a p t e r 42

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**42**

She shivered as a cool breeze cut through her pelt, padding back to her camp. The new deal with Stonestar and Northstar was already weighing heavily down on her heart.

_Do I tell the Clan? _She wondered, then hated herself for even wondering. _Secrets have never done anything for this Clan. Frostfeather's secret is what drove me away from her in Twolegplace. The secret of this Clan's existence made PeakClan's fury when they found out that much worse. Northstar's secret past pushed PeakClan against us that much harder. Keeping my feelings for Forest a secret forced him to leave. I won't hold secrets from my Clan again._

_And now that we have our territory back…._Her heart lifted slightly as she padded into camp. Then, she laughed quietly; the Clan had already retired for the night, sleeping off their anxiety and a hard day's work.

_I won't wake them. The announcement can wait until tomorrow, _she thought firmly, before slipping into the warrior's den; her own had not been cleared of ash, not when there was so much work to be done. Her den was the least of the Clan's troubles.

She let out a soft sigh, curling up on the dirt, pressing herself against Forest's side. He let out a quiet murmur in his sleep, and his nose moved to press against her shoulder. Silverstreak smiled to herself, closed her eyes, and allowed her consciousness to drift away.

. . .

The next morning, she opened her eyes to a strange, almost fuzzy gray light. She frowned, rising to her paws, and padded to the den to look up at the sky. Her eyes widened as she realized that the gray light was coming from the thick blanket of clouds hanging over their heads.

_Please, let it rain, _she prayed, _help the forest heal._

"Looks like rain, huh?" she heard Forest say. She turned to blink at him, and he yawned at her.

"It does," she mewed, then blinked, realizing how empty the warrior den was. She glanced over the camp, pleased to see that her warriors were already working on the camp once more. She let out a quiet purr, seeing that Eaglestrike was even beginning to work on her den.

"We've got a lot of extra branches, even more than we need to put around the edges of camp," Forest meowed. "Maybe you could use them for the new HighBranch. Make a pile of branches, or something?"

Silverstreak nodded thoughtfully. "It's a good idea…but I don't think I should be above the Clan yet just. I'm still a warrior right now; I don't have my nine lives. But there is something I need to do." She gave him a smile, flicking her tail, and the two of them padded out of the den together. Silverstreak padded to where the HighBranch had been – there was a spot bare of ash where it had fallen – and yowled for the Clan's attentions. Her warriors stopped their work, Buck mid-step between leaving the nursery and coming outside. She smiled to herself; Buck had a fondness for little Redkit and Bluekit, it appeared.

"My Clan," she said warmly. "Last night, I met with Stonestar on the river, and he told me that in exchange for our help fighting Lion, we could keep our territory."

Her warriors yowled triumphantly, proudly, and Silverstreak purred. "However, there was one more part to the deal," she continued. "I must train with Northstar, each night until the battle, so that I can be ready to face Lion."

The Clan's mood shifted swiftly.

"You couldn't have agreed to that!" Forest growled. "He's our enemy, as soon as we defeat Lion!"

Eaglestrike looked worried. "He'll be learning as much about you as you are of him."

"What if he tries to attack you for real?" Death asked, looking nervous. Silverstreak held up her tail for silence.

"Yes, it's dangerous, but it is the only thing Stonestar would agree to," she mewed, "and it is a small price to pay for our territory. We'll deal with Northstar when we have to; right now we have to focus our efforts on defeating Lion."

Forest still looked worried, but the Clan said nothing more.

"Let us forget that, for a short time," Silverstreak said, a slight smile curling her muzzle. "There are more important things to be done." She swallowed. "During the fire you, my Clan, showed incredibly bravery. Eaglestrike, Brightfire, Rainsplash, Jag, and Buck, you all helped PeakClan escape their homes in the midst of a terrible fire. You were all so courageous, and I am so proud…." She felt a sudden rising of emotion, threatening to choke her, and it was a moment before she could speak, so proud was she of her Clan.

"And so, I believe it is time for our ceremonies," she continued. "Brightfire, Rainsplash, you two already hold your warrior names, but with StarClan watching from above, I reaffirm them in our new Clan."

Brightfire and Rainsplash stepped forward as one, licking her shoulder, demonstrating the move for the other warriors of the Clan.

"Jag, Buck, you two were also brave, and it is time you both received your warrior names," she continued. "StarClan, I ask you to look down on these two, for they have trained long and hard to learn your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Jag, Buck, do you promise uphold the warrior code and protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your lives?"

"I do," Buck rumbled without a moment of hesitation. Jag glanced at Reedrush, who gave him an encouraging little flick of one ear, before nodding silently.

"Then, by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Jag, from this day forward, you will be known as Jaggedclaw. StarClan honors you for your strength and loyalty. Buck, from this day forth you will be known as Bramblethorn. StarClan honors you for your honesty and patience, and we welcome you both as warriors of our Clan."

Bramblethorn and Jaggedclaw bowed their heads, padding forward to lick her shoulder before moving away.

Forest's ears were pricked now, and the Clan seemed to be waiting; Death looked almost ill as Silverstreak turned to him.

"Death, you did not help PeakClan escape from the fire…but you did save the life of young Robinkit, who would surely have perished. This was a truly remarkable act of bravery from you, and we honor you for it. Death, do you promise uphold the warrior code and protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Death swallowed anxiously; he seemed almost petrified to have every cat in the Clan watching him at once. Behind him, Frostfeather pushed him forward with her nose.

"I-I do," he stammered.

"Then, by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Death, you said that you never had a true name of your own when we first met. You've earned that name today. Death, from this day forward, you will be known as Darkstorm. StarClan honors you for your enthusiasm and spirit, and we welcome you as a full warrior of our Clan."

Forest swallowed now, readying himself for the call. Silverstreak's heart clenched as she turned to him.

"Forest," she said slowly, "several days ago, you left our Clan when you decided that Clan life was not for you. You did rejoin us, with Brightflash and Thistle, and for that we are glad. However, I do not yet believe that you are ready to become a warrior."

Forest dipped his head. "I understand, Silverstreak. Hopefully before the battle, I can change your mind."

"However," Silverstreak continued, turning towards Thistle and Brightflash, "I believe that Thistle is ready for his training, and in order for him to feel most comfortable, he needs a cat that he already knows well. Thistle, Forest, come here please."

Thistle's eyes widened, and he bounced eagerly on his paws.

"Thistle, you are of apprenticing age, and you are ready to learn. From this day forward, until you earn your warrior name, you will be known as Thistlepaw. I ask StarClan to watch over you and guide you until you find the strength and courage of a warrior." She flicked her tail to Forest.

"Forest, you are not ready to be a warrior, but I know you have many skills to pass onto Thistlepaw. You will be his mentor, and I expect you to teach him the warrior code, just as you are learning it."

"Touch noses," Eaglestrike murmured, and Forest quickly obeyed, touching Thistlepaw's nose with his own. Silverstreak let out a quiet purr. Eaglestrike blinked at her, wondering if he should start up the chant, but she gave him a tiny shake of her head.

"And now, one of the most important names of all," she declared. "We are truly a Clan now. We have our medicine cat apprentice," she nodded to Shimmerpaw, "we have our territory. We have our warriors, and we have our first apprentice. We have secured our place as true Clan cats, and it is time we gained a name for ourselves. Traditionally, a Clan is named after its leader and founder. But I do not deserve that honor; I do not have my nine lives yet. And so, the name will come from elsewhere. It comes from the cat who helped guide our paws this far. It comes from the trees that make up this forest. And it comes from our Clan itself, which will rise from the fire even stronger than before. We shall be AshClan."

She waited for the Clan's reaction; it had taken her a long time to decide upon a Clan name, but after the fire AshClan seemed to fit more than ever.

Then, Eaglestrike smiled. "Bramblethorn!" he yowled. "AshClan!" The chant picked up immediately, flooding Silverstreak's hearts.

"Jaggedclaw! AshClan! Darkstorm! AshClan! Thistlepaw! AshClan!"

Silverstreak lifted her muzzle, letting their words flow over her, the chant seeming to keep time with her heartbeat. She could almost feel her heart swelling with pride; these were the cats she loved. This was her Clan.

. . .

"Thank you so much," Forest meowed, brushing his pelt against hers after the ceremony ended. Silverstreak nuzzled him.

"I didn't do it for you, I did it for Thistlepaw; he needs someone he's comfortable with to keep him in line. But you're welcome."

Forest pressed his muzzle against her shoulder. "Whatever. I'm going to pretend you did it for me." His green eyes seemed to glow, and Thistlepaw bounded forward.

"Hey, mentor! Are we going to go look at the territory? Huh? Are we?"

Forest glanced at Silverstreak uncertainly, but she simply blinked at him, keeping a blank face; as a mentor, Forest would have to decide how to train Thistlepaw on his own.

"Sure," Forest purred brightly down at the little blue-gray tom. "We can do that, why not? Let's go. Silverstreak, should I take anyone with me, like a patrol? Do we need one?"

Silverstreak considered it, then shook her head. "The dawn patrol just returned, I believe, so we don't need another one," she mewed. Forest nodded, then grinned crookedly at Thistlepaw before springing away out of camp, his young ward chasing after him.

"You've done well, Silverstreak," Eaglestrike purred, surprising her as he came from behind. She jumped, startled, and Eaglestrike smiled. "You're a little more jumpy than you were two moons ago, you know.

Silverstreak's ears flattened. "After the last moon, who wouldn't be?"

Eaglestrike nodded grudgingly. "True…you are meeting with Amber and Cane tomorrow, you know."

Silverstreak nodded. "Yes."

"I think…it might be best if you greeted them as a leader," Eaglestrike said slowly. "You've got the Clan, the territory, and StarClan already chose you for this position. It's time you earned your nine lives, Silverstreak."

Silverstreak felt a rush of exhilaration at the thought of speaking with her warrior ancestors and truly becoming a leader. Then, she shook her head.

"There isn't time," she meowed. "Tonight I have to train with Northstar. And tomorrow night, they arrive."

Eaglestrike frowned. "You can't just dismiss this, and I don't think you should go to meet them without nine lives, in case they decide to make trouble."

Silverstreak shook her head. "I made a promise to train with Northstar, in exchange for the territory. I can't go back on them, even though it is PeakClan. I'll be fine."

"This training thing…it doesn't feel right. This is Northstar we're talking about, remember? It's probably some sort of trap. Silverstreak, what you need to do tonight is get your nine lives. Blow off Northstar, at least for tonight; Stonestar doesn't have a choice whether to give us the territory or not, he just wants something to hang over your head."

Silverstreak stared into Eaglestrike's hard eyes, and her heart sank as she realized just how different this cat was from the care-free Eaglepaw she'd once known.

"Eaglestrike," she said softly. "I understand how you feel. You don't trust Northstar at all, and I know you're only concerned for my safety. But…you aren't the same anymore. The Eaglestrike that I knew would never break a promise, even to an enemy. He would never see traps everywhere. Anyone would have changed after we experienced…but we can't allow ourselves to be warped by it." She raised her muzzle. "Eaglestrike, you know I've always given second chances. I've never had a cat ruin a second chance, and honestly, sometimes that's all I've got to believe in. Any cat deserves a second chance, even Northstar. Even PeakClan. I'm our leader now, and I need to set a good example for the future generations of our Clan, and make sure that PeakClan understands that we are no longer enemies."

Eaglestrike sighed quietly. "I know how you are about your second chances. I remember Doveflight."

Silverstreak's eyes widened. "W-what?" The gray warrior flashed into her mind, blinking her dazzling green eyes. "You knew…?"

"Knew that you trained her, when Badgerfang proved inept? Knew that despite the trouble we had with her as a kit and her unwillingness to train, you tried to train her in secret? Knew that you were the cat who helped pushed her into becoming one of the most loyal warriors BirchClan had?" Eaglestrike smiled at her surprised expression. "Of course we knew. Your father knew; even back then we were close, remember?"

"He…he never said a word," Silverstreak mewed. "I thought I was keeping it from him…." Her ears flattened. "Why didn't he say anything? Did he think it was wrong of me, to take over her training?"

Eaglestrike shook his head. "Your father was waiting, at Doveflight's warrior ceremony. He thought you'd speak up, claim your credit. But you didn't, and he was surprised, but he assumed that you wanted to keep it a secret. He was proud, proud that you were content with simply helping Doveflight, not claiming her success as your own."

"Badgerfang was a good warrior, just not a good mentor," she said. "He was going through a hard time, since Russetbird died….I didn't want to humiliate him for something that really wasn't his fault." She was reeling; she had always thought that her training of young Dovepaw, the little ex-rogue who had been a troublemaker when she was young, a secret from her father. And now, he had known it all along….

"I know we can't change who we are," Eaglestrike said slowly, "but…I guess I should be glad that you haven't. You're right, about second chances..some cats deserve them. Maybe not Northstar, but that's your decision. You're our leader." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"It's good to voice your opinion," she mewed, touching his shoulder with her nose. "I'm glad you did. Things have been incredibly hard for all of us…just don't lose yourself, okay? Ravenwing will love you either way, but I don't want to lose the brother I grew up with."

Eaglestrike let out a quiet purr. "Of course, Silverstreak."

There was a rumble above them, and they both glanced up; there was another clap of thunder, and suddenly the rain was pouring down on them, soaking them to the skin in a matter of moments. Silverstreak's eyes widened with surprise, and then suddenly she was laughing, laughing as the sweet rain rushed over her fur, droplets landing in her mouth.

_Thank you, StarClan! _She thought, joy rising in her heart. _Thank you!_

She turned to see Blizzardkit letting out an excited squeal, jumping around in ecstasy and throwing himself into the already-developing mud. Jaykit appeared in the nursery, hesitating before throwing himself into the rain as well, knocking his friend over and sending the little white kit sliding in the slick mud.

Silverstreak looked up into the sky, closing her eyes, feeling the rain kiss her muzzle. _Thank you._

. . .

The rain seemed as if it would never stop, pouring from the sky in an unending torrent. The Clan was eventually forced to retreat into their dens, drying in silence as they huddled against each other, watching as the rain washed the remaining ash away. The forest was healing itself, just as Silverstreak had hoped.

_The forest will be beautiful again, when newleaf gets here, _she thought, _and with luck, we'll be here enjoying it._

It was impossible to know what time it was with the clouds masking the sunlight, but Silverstreak's internal clock made her rise to her paws, hours later.

"I'm going to train with Northstar," she said softly. "I should return by dawn."

Eaglestrike's head rose, yellow eyes glinting at her in the fuzzy gray light. "Good luck, Silverstreak. Be safe."

"If you're not back by dawn, I'm coming after you," Forest warned, "don't think I won't."

She nuzzled his shoulder. "Of course, I know." She turned, padding out of the den, her thick fur soaked immediately as she headed for the camp entrance.

_Where are we supposed to meet? The river? _She wondered. _We didn't select a place, but I suppose that one makes the most sense for us…._ It was difficult, trying to find her way with most of the trees burnt beyond recognition, but she had a fuzzy idea of where the river laid.

She stopped with surprise as the roaring river drowned out the pounding rain; the river had already swollen quite a bit, white water flowing over the rocks. She smiled to herself, heartened, before blinking as she saw a white figure picking his way over the rocks. Northstar. Her fur prickled with unease, and she felt the familiar surge of hatred that she always found when she set her gaze upon his cold golden eyes. She took a deep breath, pushing the hatred away and putting her mind in a calmer place; with her father, and how he had known of her helping Doveflight and never said a word…how he had been proud of her. She smiled, and padded forward; Northstar turned towards her quickly, claws unsheathed.

"A little jumpy, Northstar?" she asked, inwardly enjoying his anxiety. He let out a quiet grunt.

"We need to train."

She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes; Northstar was always focused on the mission at hand, ignoring any damage to himself or others to ensure that he got what he wanted. And right now, he wanted to make her suffer to become stronger. She suppressed a shiver.

"I thought we would go to the Moss Clearing," she mewed; it was still a good place to train, even without the moss, thanks to its open space. She saw his fur bristle slightly, but he followed her into the forest.

She glanced at him once over her shoulder, but his expression was impossible to read; his pricked ears told her that he was alert, but his golden eyes had a faraway look to them, as if he was thinking of something else. But what? His Clan? The rain? Their coming training session?

They reached the Moss Clearing more quickly than she'd expected. She stepped onto the dead moss, which would have crackled dryly underneath her fur if it wasn't for the pouring rain. She turned towards him, curious despite herself.

"Well, how exactly is this going to work, now? If I'm going to waste my time with you, I'd like some sort of plan—"

She let out a gasp as Northstar moved more quickly than she would have expected, pinning her down, pressing her muzzle into the moss. She struggled, but couldn't get out from under his weight.

"First rule," he hissed, eyes glinting, "there is no plan, and there are no rules."

"Okay, you made your point, get off of me!" she spat, anger flaring within her at her helplessness.

"You don't think Lion will pin you down? You don't think he's going to use his power and size to his advantage?" Northstar hissed into her ear. "You think he's just going to climb off meekly when you ask him to, like a kit? What exactly are you planning to do if he pulls this move, Silverstreak? Die?"

Silverstreak let out a hiss. _If he wants a fight, he'll get one. _She dug her claws into the ground, pushing with them to throw herself to the right. Northstar lost his grip as she flopped onto her side, and quickly turned onto her back. Northstar regained his grip, keeping her pinned. He was smiling.

"Exposing your soft belly? Nice move." He slashed at her, and she let out a cry of pain, blood already bubbling up only to be washed away by the rain.

"I thought we were training, not fighting to the deal," she growled. Northstar smirked down at her.

"We are training. When you're fighting Lion, it isn't going to be a friendly spar between apprentices. You're fighting him to the death. So you're fighting me to the death too."

He dug his claws into her stomach, and another hiss escaped her clenched teeth.

"Your stomach's open too," she grunted, reaching up with her claws to strike him, but he had already moved so that he was standing on her right. She rolled to face him, trying to stand, only to find him on her back once more, her face pressed back into the moss.

"Excellent strategy. You ended right back where you started."

His mocking inflamed her, and she let out a snarl. This time she tried to stand, instead of trying to flip over, but his weight was too much for her.

"What are you doing? You can't beat me through brute force. Use your brain. Let me face the she-cat I was fighting in that clearing!"

"I was trying to save Shimmerpaw then, not play your game!" she snarled.

"If you can't defeat Lion, then Shimmerpaw is as good as dead. Your entire Clan will perish, and mine as well. Our Clans need you to be strong!"

_He referred to PeakClan as his Clan, _she realized. _Is…is he really loyal to them? Despite trying to save my Clan when they were planning to raid us? Was he just trying to preserve PeakClan then as well?_

The idea of Northstar truly being loyal to a Clan startled her; hadn't FrozenClan cast him out, in the end? How could he be loyal to PeakClan, those of flimsy faith in StarClan and barely clinging to the warrior code?

"You're stronger than me, and faster," she growled, forcing herself to uncurl her pride. "I don't know how to escape you."

"That much I figured out for myself." He was quiet for a moment. "Flip again, but this time while you're on your side, don't roll onto your back. Regain your footing immediately; having all four paws firmly on the ground is one of the most important aspects of battle."

"You already know what I'm going to do."

"And so will he, because that's the move that makes the most sense. Surprise me."

She sighed quietly, then flipped onto her left side. Northstar's grip was loosened just as before, and he moved forward to grab her, only to let out a grunt as Silverstreak changed direction; instead of getting to her paws or rolling to her back, she continued to move, rolling onto her right side and shooting up to her paws. The force of her movement managed to knock Northstar to the side, but he was on her again in moments.

"Good," he meowed, and she saw that he was grinning. He slashed at her, but she backed away. Northstar continued to approach, lashing out at her, but she kept backing away, keeping an even tail-length between them. Northstar's strikes began to get weaker, as if he was tiring. Silverstreak's pelt prickled with unease; something wasn't right for him to tire so quickly.

She realized what it was as her tail brushed the tree trunk behind her. She'd been intent on keeping a distance between them, and hadn't noticed that Northstar had aimed his strikes to turn her just slightly, moving her towards the ring of trees around the clearing. She swallowed; she was cornered, and Northstar was closing in.

"On the battlefield, I doubt things will be as close as this…but fleeing from Lion won't help either. You'll just get other cats killed," Northstar growled. He lunged forward, and Silverstreak tried to dodge to the side, but she wasn't fast enough. He dug his claws into her fur, knocking her to the ground. She scrambled to her paws.

"Stop running away," Northstar hissed. "What is wrong with you? You can't win a battle by fleeing!"

"I don't want to fight you like this. I want to train myself and become stronger, but this senseless brawl…if you're trying to teach me, you're doing a terrible job!" she spat.

Northstar's eyes narrowed. "Is motivation the problem? You were all too eager to tear me apart when Shimmerpaw was in danger. Your entire Clan rests on your shoulders. If you aren't strong enough to finish Lion, your Clan will perish!"

He moved forward, but did not strike, pushing his muzzle into her face, eyes burning. "Is it motivation? Is that your problem? Or are you too much of a coward to fight the cat that killed your father?"

Her eyes widened, and Northstar bared his fangs. "Did you already forget that? My warriors destroyed all of the herb that would have saved his life. We took them all to our own camp and stockpiled them, saving ourselves while your Clanmates died. We killed your medicine cat so you couldn't defend yourselves against any infection or wound."

She took a step backwards, but there was nowhere to go; his golden eyes burned into hers, and she couldn't look away.

"We slaughtered your Clan while you and your friends trembled in hiding. We killed them all, anyone who would not join us. We killed your apprentices, slaughtered your elders. We let your warriors die slow, agonizing deaths. I was at that battle, the final conquest of your Clan. The blood of BirchClan still stains these claws. And now your blood has joined theirs. You remember your mother, don't you? You remember the pool of blood around her as she died, slowly, watching her Clan collapse around her? I was responsible for that. I was the one who destroyed the forest Clans. Is that motivation enough for you? Is that enough to make you—"

Northstar was cut off as Silverstreak lunged forward, knocking him down. Now it was she who had him pinned, she who tore into his stomach without mercy, blinded by fury, her vision blurred by a red haze as she slashed into his stomach again and again, even as his own claws raked her pelt. His slashes seemed to only inflame her, and her teeth plunged down, aiming for his throat.

Northstar managed to move just in time, and her teeth entered his shoulder instead. She bit down with all her power, her fangs plunging through fur and flesh.

_He killed all of them! Every last one! My mother, my father, my friends, my Clanmates…for all the work we spent training, even Doveflight fell….She was with kits, did he even know that? She told me in secret, not wanting anyone else to know until the time was right. She wouldn't even go into the nursery. She wanted to serve her Clan as long as she could. And FrozenClan killed her! They killed her and the kits inside of her, without any scrap of mercy!_

Her teeth scraped against bone, and Northstar let out a deafening yowl of pain, the sound buffeting her ears. But she did not loosen her grip, not even as she felt Northstar moving around her, preparing to strike.

And then suddenly her teeth were ripped away from him as she was sent flying, rolling head over paw over the dead moss. She did not rise from where she lied, panting as the rain splashed down onto her muzzle, drumming over her body. The hate flickered in her, but the rain was cooling her spirit as well as her body. She rose to her paws slowly, suddenly aware of the long slashes down her side from Northstar's claws.

Northstar was struggling to his paws as well, favoring his uninjured shoulder; a crimson stain was streaked down his side from the pouring rain.

"Northstar," she said softly, but he shook his head.

"That's what I wanted to see," he growled quietly. "That's what we need to defeat Lion. We're done for tonight."

"Tomorrow night, Cane and Amber are going to be coming," she mewed. "I won't be here with you."

Northstar nodded. "That's for the best."

She watched as he padded away, into the forest, disappearing into the silver curtain of rain. As she turned towards the camp, limping slightly, she realized that although she'd passed his little test…she still felt as though she'd failed her own.

**AN: One fish two fish, red fish blue fish…or so I always think when I type Redkit and Bluekit. :p **

**Sorry about the length of this update, I was busy/grounded/had some extreme writer's block all conspiring together to stop me from writing. xD**


	44. C h a p t e r 43: Nightshade

**AN: Derp, now I feel stupid. Buck's name is supposed to be Bramblethorn, not Brackenthorn; musta been thinking of Brackenheart. My apologies, guys, I fixed it…so some of you probably don't even know what I'm talking about. xD**

**Also, yay for another heart-tearing chapter. Fun times. :3**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**43: Nightshade**

A loud sound next to her ear made her jump; she winced as she realized her ear felt wet.

"Minnow," she complained, "you sneezed in my _ear."_

She glanced over to see that the silver she-cat was still asleep. Nightshade considered waking her up, but she actually looked comfortable, for once, relaxed without the threat of Maggot's cronies hanging over her. Nightshade sighed, resting her head on her paws instead. Her paw still ached fiercely; she'd been unable to keep up with Maggot and Blight for some time, although she had tried. The wound kept reopening every day, and Nightshade knew she was leaving a bloody trail behind the group.

Nightshade yawned, wondering if she should try to go back to sleep, but the sun was already casting a gentle glow on the horizon. It wouldn't be long before they were moving again.

She lifted her head once more, turning towards Maggot's group. Her heart clenched and she felt a wave of shame come over her as she saw Blight, sleeping without any warm she-cat to comfort him.

_I've failed the Master on this journey, _she thought. _I will make it up to him when we reach our destination, and Slaughter welcomes us home._

_Perhaps I can still be in his good graces._

She rose to her paws – the wound wasn't open just yet, so her paw wasn't throbbing – and slunk into the forest. She opened her mouth, letting the scents flood in, and pinpointed the location of a mouse. She crept forward silently, stepping with her injured paw gingerly, before blinked as she heard the mouse scurry away through the dead leaves. She frowned; had she misjudged its position, and allowed it to see her? Or had it smelled her? She sniffed the air again. It couldn't be that the creature had smelled her; she was downwind.

Voices reached her ears, and she froze, trembling. Did Clan cats and their evil StarClan gods live around here? Blight had mentioned them several times, but never said where they lived. Or were they rogues, capable of being recruited to her Master's noble cause?

She crept forward, barely brushing the ground, peering through a bush. Her eyes widened as she realized she knew these two cats…or rather, these two kits.

"I can't believe it got away!" Pyro pouted, sweeping his small ginger tail over the forest floor. "Gosh, I thought we had it for sure."

"The mouse was just lucky," Merla mewed; her voice was whisper-soft, barely audible to Nightshade's ears. It was the first time she'd heard the little black kit speak.

"Yeah, lucky…lucky I don't run after it and kill it!" Pyro shouted, his insult probably aimed at the mouse, also scaring away all of the prey in the area.

Nightshade's mind was racing. Pyro and Merla were the adopted kits of Primrose and Swansong. Why were they here? If they were here, did it mean the rest of the rogues were here as well? Someone had to be looking after the two kits; they were well-fed, and Pyro was obviously no hunter.

Pyro scowled, kicking up the dead leaves around him. Merla licked his shoulder.

"You'll get it next time," she meowed.

"That's what you said the last three times," Pyro grumbled, but he looked comforted slightly by her words. His amber eyes seemed to glow with determination. "At least keeping up with _her _is easy. Maggot's cats stink, and the trail she leaves…." He let out a growl that was surprisingly loud for one of his size. "When we catch up to her, we're going to rip her apart for what she did. Right?"

Merla nodded, and Pyro smiled. "They'll lead us back to their home and then we'll come and kill her. You, me, and Primrose. And Griffin and Shredder too."

Nightshade's eyes widened; that was why they were here. These two kits, and maybe the rest of the rogue band as well, had followed her for revenge. She suddenly felt sickened, and retreated as quickly as she could without making any noise. Her legs trembled, and she had to take a deep breath to steady herself.

_They're coming to kill me, for what I did to Swansong, Phoenix, and Scorpion. They've been tracking me the entire time, helped by the bloody trail I've been leaving…and what will happen when they get here? Will they attack Maggot's band? Will they hurt Minnow? I don't want her getting hurt…but the deaths are my fault. It's my fault that Phoenix and Scorpion are dead…I only seem to bring misery wherever I go, even after being saved by Blight…is it possible that I am simply unsalvageable? That no one can truly save me?_

_What do I do now? Do I tell Blight? He will tell Maggot…and they will kill all of the rogues. Even if the entire band is following us, with three warriors missing they won't be able to defeat us all. Tremor and his cats don't deserve to die…and I can't let Minnow get hurt._

Blight's eyes were on her as she entered the camp. She blinked at him, and he turned away from her. Her ears flattened, and she padded to Minnow, who was awake and yawning.

"Hey, where'd you go?" Minnow asked brightly. "Hunting?"

Nightshade nodded numbly, and Minnow frowned. "Couldn't catch anything, I guess?"

"There…was little prey to be found," Nightshade said slowly. Minnow cocked her head to one side, watching her with green eyes.

"What's the matter? You look worried. Are you nervous about Blight?"

Nightshade latched on to Minnow's own explanation; it was the easiest for her to deal with. "Yes. I know he's not very happy with me right now…but I think I can make it up to him, when we find our destination."

Minnow nodded. "I don't really get why you're close to him, to be honest," she admitted. "It's like…he doesn't really care for you, you know?"

Nightshade's eyes narrowed, a spark of anger flying up within her. However, it was nothing compared to what she might have felt a moon earlier; she was simply too exhausted, physically and mentally. "He loves me."

Minnow's ears flattened. "I guess I don't know him as well as you do…maybe he does, I'm not really in a position to say, now am I? Sorry for sticking my nose in…I guess I just don't really get stuff like that. I've never had a cat that I loved." She sighed quietly. "I joined Maggot's group because I thought I could have friends, a family…but I don't really like most of these cats. They're all so…dark, you know? But you…you're nice. I like you." Minnow smiled at her, almost shyly, and Nightshade's heart melted; she couldn't stay angry with the younger she-cat.

"It's fine," she mewed, blinking as Maggot stood and motioned to his cats. "We're moving again."

Minnow sprang to her paws, and the two of them began to follow Maggot and Blight. Nightshade winced with every step; now her bloody pawprints seemed much more sinister, like a beacon to the rogues trailing them.

_What do I do? _She thought. _If I tell Blight, he'll tell Maggot, and there will be a terrible battle…Minnow could get hurt, and Tremor's band will probably be all but destroyed. They were good cats, welcoming cats who allowed us into their group, not knowing of our plan to kill Tremor and take over…but I ruined that plan with my foolishness, and now Phoenix and Scorpion are dead and the band is out for our blood…._

_Perhaps if I give myself to them voluntarily, they'll be satisfied? Or will they want Blight's blood as well, since his scent was hanging around the clearing where he found me with them? Surrendering myself to them will get me killed, and they won't stop their crusade until Blight is dead as well…I can't let them hurt my Master._

_What do I do? I don't want to be the cause of more death, but…._

"Finally!" she heard Blight crow; Nightshade blinked, realizing that the front of the group had come to a stop. The rest of the group moved to catch up, forming a line of cats atop the slope. Nightshade's breath caught in her throat as she glimpsed the cause of Blight's excitement.

It was the mountains, standing stark against the sky, like great gray pillars topped with snow. Her eyes widened; how could they possibly cross such a thing?

Blight's golden eye seemed to glow as he stared at his mountains, his home. "We are nearly there," he announced to the group, and broke into a run down the slope. The rest of the group followed, and Nightshade let out a hiss of pain as she was roughly jostled by the many cats. She broke into a run as well, pain spiking up her leg as her injured paw hit the rough ground at higher speeds.

They ran down the slope and through the thin brush, as the mountains grew closer and closer. The ground began sloping upwards as they approached the foot of the mountains, and Nightshade's paw began to bleed even more freely as the jagged stone cut away at her. She bit her lip, holding back the cry of pain building in her throat.

"There were once ancient streams running all through our mountains, leaving us with chains of tunnels," Blight grunted as he ran. "We use these to navigate faster than the foolish mountain cats. Here we are." He stopped in front of a gaping hole in the side of the mountain; Nightshade could see the furrow in the side of the mountain where the stream had come out and run down, hundreds of moons ago.

"There isn't much room, so we'll be in single-file," Blight growled. "Stay close to the cat in front of you. There's no light; you'll rely on me to guide you."

Maggot nodded slowly, and Blight disappeared into the gaping mouth of the tunnel. His other cats began to follow, one by one as Blight had directed.

Beside Nightshade, Minnow trembled.

"I didn't know we were going through a tunnel," she whimpered. "I'm scared of the dark. Not at night, but…." She shook. "When I was little and I lived in Twolegplace, a Twoleg once captured me and stuffed me in her garbage-holder. I was there all night, trapped, wondering what would happen…it was heavy, I couldn't knock it over…I kept hearing things moving outside, but I didn't know if they were cats or dogs or monsters…." Her green eyes were wide with fright. Nightshade gave her a comforting nuzzle.

"Hold my tail, in your teeth," she suggested. "So you know you won't get lost."

Minnow swallowed, then nodded, and Nightshade lifted her tail, wincing slightly as Minnow grabbed it.

"Little tight," she mewed, and Minnow mumbled an apology. Taking a deep breath, Nightshade padded into the darkness.

At first the tunnel was bright, and she could see the ginger tabby in front of her. Then, the light turned to a fuzzy gray, finally giving way to complete darkness. Nightshade could feel Minnow shaking behind her. Nightshade's eyes were wide, darting around, but there was no light for her to pick up. She pressed herself against the tunnel wall, desperate not to get lost. The wall was hard and cool against her side, and she could have sworn it moved underneath her, pushing her closer to the other wall. Closer and closer, until it seemed that the entire tunnel was pressing down around her. She closed her eyes, shivering.

"_No!" _a voice hissed behind her._ "I will never submit to you!"_

Her eyes shot open as the voice rang in her ears, and she stopped. Minnow bumped into her.

"Nightshade? Something wrong?"

"Did you hear that?" Nightshade whispered. She could almost feel Minnow's puzzled stare.

"Hear what?"

"Keep moving!" a voice snarled from behind them, and Nightshade was certain that one was real. She moved forward quickly, yelping as her nose hit the tabby in front of her, who let out a hiss.

"Sorry," Nightshade whispered, suddenly feeling very small. Her heart was thudding in her ears, drowning out everything. She closed her eyes again, trying to shake herself out of her fear.

"_Who is the Master?" _

It was Blight's voice, coming from behind her. She knew that was impossible; Blight was leading them all through the tunnel. She did not stop walking, but she swallowed, trying to push the voice away.

_When he first captured me, I said I wouldn't submit, _she remembered. _But in the end, I did, because it was right. He is good, I was bad, I was the cause for everything…it's my fault that Robin died._

_And yet…when he saved me…I still don't feel good. I try to do as he asks…but I killed Swansong, Phoenix, and Scorpion. They didn't deserve that. Am I still tainted by StarClan? Is it possible that he didn't completely save me…?_

She tried to banish the thoughts, but in the unending darkness there was nothing to distract her, only the sound of paws against the smooth stone. She bowed her head, trying to drown out the voices, the memories, to cover them back up where they had been before. But try as she might, she couldn't get rid of them. She wasn't strong enough.

. . .

"Stop," the tabby said in front of her. Nightshade blinked, coming to a stop, passing the message along. Minnow whispered it, as did the tom behind her, and Nightshade listened as the word continued down the line, seemingly into forever.

_Without any other sounds, you can hear everything, _she thought.

"Blight says we are stopping now; it is nightfall on the surface," the ginger tabby said. "We will be in the tunnel tomorrow as well. Then we will emerge and find Slaughter."

Nightshade's eyes widened; another day of this nightmare still awaited her?

She heard Minnow passing on the message behind her, but even as she heard the other cats lying down to settle themselves, Nightshade felt frozen.

"Come on," Minnow murmured, tugging on Nightshade's tail. Nightshade lied down, and attempted to curl up, but she felt sandwiched between the sides of the tunnel, as if they were still closing on her. She felt Minnow press her pelt against her side, and Nightshade was faintly comforted by the silver she-cat's touch.

"It's not as bad as I thought it would be, with you here," Minnow whispered to her. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Nightshade blinked slowly, thinking of her friends. Robin had been her friend, and Buck had sort of been her friend too…but she had betrayed them both, pushing Buck away and getting Robin killed. Phoenix had been her friend, and Rumble too; she'd left Rumble behind and killed Phoenix. Was this her pattern now? Would she get Minnow killed and leave Blight?

She closed her eyes, pressing her lids together as if she could push the fears away. _I can't. I won't do that._

"Nightshade?" Minnow's voice was nervous. "W-we're friends, right? R-right?"

Nightshade was silent. _I don't want Minnow to get hurt…like my friends do, _she thought. _But Swansong was my enemy, and she was hurt too…do I just destroy every cat I come into contact with? If so, Minnow is already doomed._

"Yeah," she whispered. "Yeah. We're friends."

She could feel Minnow's purring through her fur, as she stared into the darkness, staring long after Minnow's purrs ceased and the silver tabby drifted off to sleep.

When she finally fell asleep, her dreams were tangled nightmares of blurred lights and screams.

. . .

She was jostled by the ginger tabby as she got to her paws. Nightshade opened her eyes, and gasped at the darkness, fearing for a moment that she had gone blind. It took her a moment to remember where she was, and she stood, feeling Minnow stand behind her. She touched Minnow's shoulder with her tail, and felt Minnow silently grasp it gently in her jaws.

Nightshade felt the ginger tabby move, and she pressed herself against the tunnel, following her through the darkness.

The day passed as the first had, a nightmare of darkness and strange voices echoing in her memory. When the ginger tabby whispered that they were stopping again, it was not a relief; it only meant that she would be sent to another place, a place where everything made even less sense and seemed to be an unending story of terror and horror. Her dreams were senseless, horrible, terrifying, just as she had predicted, and when she awoke the next morning it was almost with relief that she realized she was back in the tunnel.

And then, the tunnel began to slowly grow lighter, lighter and lighter as they neared the end of it, the tunnel walls transforming from black to gray. Nightshade squinted as the mouth opened up before them, and a sweet breeze reached out to caress her face as her paws left the smoothness of the tunnel, onto jagged rock.

Minnow let out a whoop behind her, dropping Nightshade's tail to rush into the sunlight. She ran in a circle, as if chasing her tail, before grinning brightly at Nightshade.

"Look at that!" she exclaimed, and Nightshade blinked as she saw the forest valley beneath them, massive trees standing tall in the weak leaf-bare sunlight. Her eyes widened as she saw to the north a vast expanse of water, rolling with waves that crashed against the sand and stone with crashes like thunder, even from such a distance.

"This is our home?" she asked, and felt a tail brush her flank. She turned to see Blight smiling at her, his single eye glowing with warmth.

"It is, pet, just for TalonClan," he purred, then tilted his muzzle, pointing farther up the mountain, to another cave. "That is our home. Follow me, everyone!" He padded forward, and Nightshade scramble to follow, only to let out a cry of pain as a sharp rock reopened her wound once more. Her blood smeared the rock behind her as she struggled to keep up with him, Minnow at her side.

"Slaughter!" Blight yowled loudly, striding up what appeared to be a path in the mountainside. "Slaughter, I have returned!"

Blight stopped, and Nightshade stopped at his side, Maggot on his other. The eyes of TalonClan stared at them and Nightshade looked from face to face, wondering at their expressions. Most looked surprised, some happy, some curious…but several looked afraid. Blight's eyes darted over the camp. Then, he blinked, and his golden eye softened slightly as a strange silver tabby slipped out of one of the dens, a golden tom at her side. The she-cat didn't move for a moment, staring with icy eyes, before turning and saying something into the den. Blight's eye widened as a massive golden tabby appeared, his thick fur long and tangled, creating almost a mane around his thick neck. The tom padded forward slowly; Nightshade was sickened to see that he only had one ear. The other was in useless tatters.

"You are Blight?" the tom rumbled, and Blight's tail bristled.

"Where is Slaughter?" he demanded.

"My father is dead," the silver tabby said, coming to stand beside Lion. "Lion rules TalonClan now."

Blight seemed shaken by the news; Nightshade could have sworn she saw his legs give a tremor before he regained control of himself.

"Lion?" Maggot rasped. "You said your leader was Slaughter, a powerful cat."

"He was," Lion said, in a slow, deep voice. "Until I killed him."

"Y-you killed Slaughter? And his guards?"

Lion nodded. "Our mission is still the same, to kill Silverstreak and her Clanmates, along with whatever new cats she might have rounded up to help her. Who are the rest of these cats?"

"I am Maggot, and these are my followers," Maggot croaked. "We live in a forest to the west. Blight promised that if we sided with you in your little battle, you would aid us in defeating the rogues in our territory."

Lion regarded them for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. I will carry on his bargain. We will help you with your rogues if you help us in the battle against Silverstreak."

"When will this battle take place?" Maggot demanded. Lion gave him a small shrug.

"Soon. When we are ready. Toxin has already given us valuable information about their whereabouts, but I would like more about their numbers, since they appear to constantly be changing."

_Toxin, that's her name, _Nightshade thought, blinking at the tabby. Then, her gaze flitted to the golden tom, who was watching the events with a smile on his face. He was a handsome tom, she reflected, although she preferred her Master over his smirk.

"You could always send more scouts," Toxin mewed. "They shouldn't have moved from their position."

Lion nodded. "You may leave, with Carmelo. Bring a third cat on your patrol."

Toxin touched Blight's flank with her tail, in a way that was not at all innocent. Nightshade's fur bristled, but Blight was not looking at her. He smiled at Toxin, then shook his head.

"I cannot come. I have things that I must do here." Now he glanced at Nightshade, and she smiled at him, but his gaze seemed slightly distant.

Toxin's sharp eyes flitted towards Nightshade as well, and they narrowed, but she said nothing. The silver she-cat instead turned and flicked her tail to one of the gathered cats, a black tom with white paws, who came forward.

"We shall set off immediately," Toxin said softly. "We should be back somewhere around the next full moon."

Lion nodded, and the three cats slipped away, heading down the mountain. Blight turned, his golden gaze following the silver she-cat as she vanished amongst the jagged rocks.

"Maggot, your cats can make themselves at home," Lion rumbled. "Feel free to share our prey. When Toxin returns, we can strategize."

Maggot dipped his head, flicking his tail to his cats and leading them farther into the camp, to find their dens. Minnow glanced at Nightshade, before following the others.

"Come on," Blight growled quietly. "You will share my den."

He headed to the rocky ledges within the cave, padding to the lowest. Nightshade was surprised to see that a den had been carved out of the rock.

"The lower your rank, the higher up you sleep; it's coldest up there," Blight meowed. "I won a great battle for my Clan, so I am of high rank. And now that I brought Maggot back, well…." He smirked. "I'm going to tell Lion everything we've found, okay? Just wait here."

"Wait," Nightshade said quickly. "What about Slaughter? He's dead, isn't he? I thought we were going to wage war on StarClan…?"

Blight licked her ear. "I'll explain everything when I come back, pet, I promise."

Nightshade watched as the gray tabby padded away, disappearing into Lion's den. She laid her head on her paws, blinking at the staring eyes of the Clan; they were obviously all wondering who this strange she-cat was, that had come with Blight and not Maggot. She stared at the floor of the den, rather than meet their eyes.

Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she rose to her paws, padding hesitantly towards the pile of prey in the middle of the camp. She hesitated, reaching out for a mouse slowly, nervous that one of the TalonClan cats might object. They did not, and she quickly grabbed the mouse, retreating into her den to eat it. She wolfed the creature down, and found that she was hungry for more.

_I haven't eaten in two days, _she thought, and went back for a second piece of prey, a small vole this time. _They have the whole forest to feed them._

She ate it as well, and was disturbed to find that it had only taken the edge off of her hunger. She shook her head at the strangeness of it, sighing as she curled up on the hard stone and waited.

Blight was back at sunset, lying down in the den, his pelt against hers.

"Who are these cats, really?" she whispered. "What are we going to do?"

"These cats are TalonClan; most of them are proud warriors of FrozenClan, but some are the weak traitors of the forest Clans," Blight explained quietly. "FrozenClan defeated the forest Clans and took them over. Slaughter overthrew our treacherous leader, and he helped banish the evil StarClan. Apparently Lion killed him in revenge for some other wrong…but he wants the same as we do. He hates StarClan too, Nightshade, and he's after the blood of the Clan cats who managed to flee. There is one named Silverstreak, who fled with several of her friends. Toxin found her and brought back news of her; apparently she's amassing quite a force."

"But we'll win, right?"

Blight nodded. "Don't fear, pet. All will be well, I promise." He licked her ear slowly, sending a tingling running through her entire body. She leaned against him, comforted by his warmth.

"And Toxin? Who is she?"

Blight was quiet for a moment. "Toxin is Slaughter's daughter," he said finally, "and she was completely devoted to him. She's on our side, pet, don't worry."

"I know that…but…." Nightshade trailed off, unable to voice her discomfort around the icy-eyed she-cat. "Were you two…ever…?"

Blight was silent again. "It's complicated, pet," he growled. "She wants me to father her kits, so they'll be strong. And we did have…something, in the past. But she can't be satisfied by any one tom. She doesn't have it in her."

Nightshade swallowed. "But…you're satisfied by me…right?"

Blight glanced down at her. His eye was narrowed, and she realized she might have gone too far. "That's not your concern, pet," he growled. "I am the Master. Remember your mistake with Swansong. What I want to do, I will."

Nightshade's ears flattened, but she quickly nodded, not wanting to make him angry. He stared at her for a moment, before touching her muzzle with his nose.

"No matter what, you're my favorite," he meowed. "Just remember that."

Nightshade nodded, looking down at her white paws. "Minnow's my friend," she blurted, glancing towards him. Blight blinked at her.

"Yes, I noticed that you two were becoming…close." There was still a slight growl to his voice.

"But…I'm worried…bad things happen to my friends."

Blight nodded. "Robin, Phoenix. I remember. You don't have to worry, pet. I'll make sure she's taken care of."

"Can…can she stay with us? Or close to us?" Nightshade asked eagerly. Blight seemed to be considering the matter for a moment. Then, he nodded.

"Sure, pet. Whatever you like."

"Thank you," Nightshade murmured into his fur, pressing herself close against him. He nuzzled her, and she let out a quiet sigh, feeling at each for the first time since she'd entered the tunnel. Blight loved her, he cared about how she felt. Everything was fine now.

. . .

It was only when she woke up the next morning that she realized she'd fallen asleep, her face pressed against his fur. Her stomach rumbled quietly, but she ignored it; she'd eaten two the day before, she didn't need another until later.

Blight stirred beside her, raising his head and yawning. "Hungry, pet?"

She shook her head, not wanting to be a glutton. Blight stood, picking out a piece of prey for himself from the pile and settling down to eat it. Her mouth filled with water at the scent, but she said nothing, watching as he picked the bones clean of flesh. He crunched the skull between his jaws, an odd custom of his, before standing.

"We should train, don't you think? It's been awhile," he meowed. Nightshade nodded quickly, wanting to please him, and following him out of the den. She felt the Clan's stares on her pelt, but she ignored them, following him as she picked her way down the mountain, her paw throbbing within minutes.

They reached the soft forest floor, and she let out a quiet sigh as the dark earth soothed her paws. She followed him through the trees, blinking as he stopped in a clearing and gave her a smile.

"Attack me," he challenged her. She ran forward, only to find that he had moved and was at her side, knocking her down seemingly without effort. She scrambled to her paws, her wounded paw leaving the grass stained with blood. He lunged and she flattened herself to the ground, sending him soaring overhead. He was on his feet and on top of her before she could react, slashing down her back. She let out a yelp of pain, twisting around to slash at him, and he climbed off.

Their battle continued for hours, until the sun was well into the sky. Nightshade collapsed on the ground, panting, unable to go on. Her body stung in numerous places, but she had managed to give Blight several good hits, and she knew she was improving. He was barely winded, standing and watching her recover, glancing into the forest ever so often.

"You should get looked at," he growled, and the two of them climbed back up the mountain into camp together.

Minnow was there when Nightshade entered the camp, bright-faced at first, only to stare as Nightshade limped into the medicine den. Nightshade winced as she sat down; she knew Minnow would be worried about her injuries, but there was no need. Blight was only trying to make her stronger.

"What happened to you?" one of the medicine cats, a silver tabby, asked. Nightshade watched her with distrust; medicine cats spoke with StarClan, although these cats weren't true medicine cats any longer.

"Training," she replied crisply. The silver tabby looked dubious, but began tending to Nightshade's wounds anyway. Nightshade waited impatiently for her to finish, leaving the den without thanking her; whatever Blight said, she didn't trust any cat that had the ability to commune with the stars overhead.

She looked for Minnow, but the silver tabby was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, she glanced around the camp for Blight, even looking in his den, but he too appeared to be absent.

Her heart sank, remembering how Blight and Swansong had been missing from camp together, 'hunting'. She shook herself.

_Minnow would never do that. She doesn't even like Blight. And, anyway, I'll always be his favorite, _she consoled herself.

"Nightshade," Blight called, and she turned quickly to see him entering camp with a plump rabbit in his jaws. He smiled at her, padding into his den, and she quickly followed him.

"I caught this for you," he purred. "You must be hungry after our training."

Nightshade quickly nodded, pushing away her guilt from overeating the day before, and waited for Blight to take a bite before she joined in. They ate in silence, until Nightshade asked,

"Have you seen Minnow?"

Blight blinked slowly. "No. I was hunting. Wasn't she here when you came back?"

Nightshade nodded anxiously. Blight shrugged. "You would have thought she'd have waited for you," he meowed. "Oh well, I suppose. Perhaps she's hunting as well."

_Minnow's a good hunter, _Nightshade thought. _That has to be it._

They shared the rest of the meal in silence.

. . .

The next day was the same as the first; they got up early to eat and train, then came back for Nightshade's wounds to be treated. This time, she did not see Minnow, but she learned that the name of the she-cat that had tended to her before was Feather. This time, it was a different cat that helped, one whose name was Falcon.

She thanked him, leaving the den and looking for Minnow, but her friend was nowhere to be seen. As he had the day before, Blight returned with prey for the two of them to share.

"Have you seen Minnow?" she asked again. Blight blinked.

"You haven't seen her today?" he asked, and she shook her head. Blight frowned.

"I'll ask around, okay?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Thank you."

True to his word, Blight padded over to the section of camp where Maggot's cats had gathered, and Nightshade watched as he spoke with Maggot quietly. He returned, a troubled look in his golden eye.

"No one's seen Minnow since yesterday," he meowed. "Rumor has it she had a fight with that tom who tried to take her crow, and he chased her off. They say she might not be coming back."

Nightshade's eyes widened. Minnow, gone? Her last true friend?

Her ears flattened, and she stared at her paws. "I wasn't able to protect her, either," she whispered. Blight nuzzled her side.

"Don't feel bad, love. I couldn't help her either, I'm sorry. If we'd known he was giving her problems…she didn't say anything to you, did she?"

Nightshade shook her head, and Blight sighed. "We can only hope that she'll come back, when she gets the courage," he meowed. "Perhaps I can train her too, like I'm training you. Would you like that?"

She glanced up at him; his golden gaze seemed oddly guarded. She nodded. "Minnow's smart, but not very brave or strong…you could help her. Like you did me."

Blight smiled. "I'm glad you think so, pet. I'm glad you trust your Master."

. . .

There wasn't much time to mourn Minnow's absence, however; Blight kept her busy with his constant training. Nightshade asked once about him training her to hunt, but it seemed to make him angry; he growled about her not being able to hunt Silverstreak's warriors on the battlefield. Their training session that day was more brutal than the others, and she didn't dare ask again.

The days seemed to fly by, but the tiny ache that had been left by Minnow didn't seem to go away. Nightshade dreamed of her, although the dream was in pieces; she was trapped somewhere, crying for Nightshade's help. The dreams left Nightshade feeling disturbed when she awoke, but she didn't have enough time to sit down and think about them, with Blight's almost constant presence. He was always with her, save for when he went to hunt in the evenings, alone.

Nightshade could feel herself getting stronger, thanks to Blight's regimen. She was beginning to develop real muscles under her coat, the kind that her bare living in Mother's home had been unable to give her. She was also starting to gain a bit of weight, thanks to her strangely large appetite. She was striking Blight more and more often now in their sparring, but he was in turn becoming more and more violent in their battles. Once he bit her foreleg down to the bone. Their training session ended there that day, and he helped her limp back to camp, but he did not apologize. She blamed herself for not being fast enough to avoid his fangs.

If the medicine cats – 'healers', as she learned they were called now – were concerned about her injuries, they did not voice their concerns, unlike Rumble. In her few spare moments to herself, when she wasn't thinking of Minnow, she was thinking of Rumble and the rest of his band. By now, they were in the mountains with her, if they had chosen not to go into the tunnels. It was good that Blight was keeping her in camp, and in truth she did not want to leave; when she wasn't training, she felt oddly sluggish, sleepy.

Blight was being worn down by their training to, however, for after several days when he awoke he did not immediately grab prey for them to share. Instead, he yawned, and took the time to groom through his fur, glancing over his various wounds. Nightshade's entire body seemed to ache as she mimicked him, grooming through her dirty fur, which had lost its white brightness some time ago.

"I think you can have the day off, today," Blight said with another long yawn. "You've earned it, darling."

Nightshade smiled, and yawned as well. "I might just stay here and sleep."

Blight frowned at her. "Laziness isn't a virtue, you know. Perhaps you should go hunting."

Nightshade nodded, not wanting to argue; she rose to her paws and moved towards the prey pile, before thinking better of it and heading outside of camp instead. Hunger would give her more motivation for hunting, she knew that from experience.

It took some time for her tired body to pick its way down the mountain; when she reached the halfway point, she hesitated.

_The rogues could just be waiting for me, down there, _she thought with a shiver. _They might have some sort of trap, for when I'm finally alone. As tired as I am, even with my new techniques I wouldn't be able to defeat them….There's prey here on the mountain, surely? How else would FrozenClan have survived?_

She opened her mouth, searching for scents as she followed a trail worn into the side of the cliff by many paws. She blinked, catching the faint scent of a mouse. She fell into a hunting crouch, creeping forward, her still-injured paw's throbbing fading into the background; she had more painful wounds for her body to focus on now.

She could see the mouse – oddly, it was gray compared to the usual brown, but since it lived in the mountains that made sense. She tensed to spring, only to have one tail brush several loose rocks, sending them clattering down the mountainside. The mouse bolted, and Nightshade dashed along behind it. Her bad leg kept her from running as quickly as she should have been able too, and the mouse scrambled over the jagged rocks, sending more tumbling down the rocky cliffs. She lunged for it, missing it by a narrow margin as it slipped down a crack between two large ledges.

"Foxdung," she spat, sitting down to lick her bleeding paw. Her paws stung from the chase, and she glanced around the mountainside looking for another opportunity.

Then, a strange scent caught her nose; one of fear, sickness, and dirt. She frowned, puzzled, and opened her mouth to catch more of the odd scent. Then, her eyes widened; mixed in with the strangeness and fear was Minnow's scent.

She sprang to her paws, following the scent towards a narrow cavern, tucked snugly between two ledges. Was it not for the smell, it would have been almost impossible to find, well off of the paths that most cats followed.

Something was blocking the cavern; a boulder, she realized. A sudden chill ran down her spine. She leaped down to the ledge, and braced herself against the boulder. She let out a grunt of exhertion as she strained, managing to push the boulder just enough to look inside.

At first, she thought what she saw to be a large, mangled piece of prey. At first glance, it was a lump of bloody fur. But, looking closer, she saw the familiar glint of green eyes. Her breath sucked in as a gasp.

"Minnow?"

"Nightshade," Minnow whispered, her voice dangerously faint. She managed to raise her head, allowing Nightshade to see her muzzle had been slashed nearly from her eye to her nose.

Nightshade pushed the boulder farther, squeezing herself into the space. The scent of blood and dirt rushed into her face, nearly knocking her over.

"Minnow, what…how…?" Nightshade was speechless with horror.

Minnow didn't have the strength to keep her head up. "I won't call him my master," she croaked. "I don't care…what he does…he says I'm stubborn…that you broke before me…."

Nightshade was frozen with shock. _The Master? _She thought. _He did this to her? Minnow? But…he said he would protect her. He said she was missing._

"We've got to get you out of here!" Nightshade exclaimed. Minnow shook her head weakly.

"He'll get mad at you, Nightshade…he'll know…and I can't go anywhere like this."

"I'll be right back," Nightshade meowed. She dashed out of the den, running down the mountain to locate more prey. She managed to find a mouse, and this one she killed, bringing it back to Minnow without thinking of her own hunger.

Minnow wolfed it down within seconds, the bones crunching between her teeth as she swallowed them as well. Nightshade watched anxiously, pelt crawling.

_Is this what I looked like, when the Master was converting me? _She wondered, seeing the wounds over Minnow's pelt, some still sluggishly oozing blood. _Is this what he did to me? Everything about that time is so dim in my memory…like I pushed it away…._

Her stomach churned. _How could the Master do this? Was he trying to save her too? But why did he lie to me…did he want me to think that he had found her, later? Was Minnow supposed to become…like me? Minnow doesn't dream about StarClan, though, she would have mentioned it. Minnow's a good cat. Why would she need to be saved when she's already on our side…?_

"Thank you," Minnow whispered. "You should go. Before he comes back."

Nightshade shook her head. "I can't leave you, Minnow, not like this. Just submit to him. It's easy after awhile…he only wants to help."

Minnow's eyes narrowed. "This is helping? How? He's kept me here for days, Nightshade, with no food or water because I won't submit…how is this helping me?"

Nightshade felt a spark of anger. _I may not understand what my Master is doing…but it has to be for a good reason. He knows what he's doing, always. _

"You have to trust him," she mewed. "Trust me. Please."

Minnow shook her head. "I can't. Even if I submit…I'll be like you, scared of his shadow, scared of everything about him while being slavishly devoted at the same time…he terrifies you, but you can't leave him. You think he loves you. If this is his love….he forces you to fight him, all the time. He likes hurting you."

Her anger was building, kindling a flame in her heart. "He's just trying to make me stronger. He loves me."

"He's using you. The Clan says he loves Toxin, too…he wouldn't hurt you like he does if he loves you."

"Shut up!" Nightshade hissed, and her paw rose as if to strike Minnow. The little silver tabby flinched, but could not move, waiting for the blow to come.

Nightshade hesitated, then let her paw drop to the ground, feeling sickened. _Was I really going to strike her? My only friend? She's injured, sick, and confused…she doesn't know what she's saying._

"We have to leave," Minnow rasped. "Both of us, together. We can hide in the forest, they can't find us there." Her eyes were open again, staring at Nightshade, pleading. "Please."

Nightshade turned away from her. "Minnow, I can't leave him. He's my Master. He saved me."

"From what?"

"Evil! StarClan! It's my fault Robin died!" she burst out. "I couldn't protect her! The dreams led us into danger. And Phoenix, and Scorpion, and Swansong…I killed all of them, I'm evil."

"But you were saved before you found the rogues," Minnow meowed. "Shouldn't the evil have been gone, before you killed them?"

Nightshade stared at her, as Minnow voiced her own silent fears. She shook herself, trying to find some sort of meaning in the pain and fear that had become her entire being.

"I'm not trying hard enough," she hissed. "I have to try harder. I have to be even better. Then I'll be good, and never hurt anyone again."

"Is this your fault, then? Me being here?" Minnow asked. "No, it's not. Blight did this to me, not you. And he isn't saving you. He's just using you."

Nightshade was shaking, trembling. "Minnow, please, just….Come on. We're getting you out of here." She grabbed Minnow's scruff, dragging her to her paws. Minnow swayed unsteadily, and she leaned on Nightshade for support.

"Where can I go, if you're not there?" Minnow asked, her breath tickling Nightshade's ear. The smallest plan was beginning to form in Nightshade's head, and she used it to push the fear and uncertainty away.

"Trust me," Nightshade whispered. "Blight will kill you if you don't submit. I can't let that happen. I can't help you join him, but I can't let you die, either."

She led Minnow out of the den, and they started down the mountain together. Minnow stumbled, unable to keep her balance, but Nightshade supported her, and they worked their way down slowly. Minnow let out a soft sigh as her paws touched the softness of the forest floor, and nearly collapsed.

"Just a bit farther, come on," Nightshade urged, half-dragging Minnow through the forest. They both collapsed, exhausted, in a small clearing.

"Rumble!" she yowled in the forest. "Please. I know you're here!"

She received no reply, but she was unconcerned; any cat in the forest could hear her, the way voices rang through these still woods.

"Rumble, this cat is not an enemy of yours," she called. "She was with Maggot, but she never meant any harm to any of your rogues. She's badly injured, and weak. She won't survive much longer with the cats I'm with." She waited, but there was no answer from the forest.

"You're leaving me here?" Minnow whispered. Nightshade reached down to nuzzle her gently.

"I can't stay with you. I can't leave him," she said softly. "I love him." Minnow shook her head, but Nightshade nosed her shoulder. "Please, don't argue. I don't want to fight with you. When I lose my temper, I can't….." She licked Minnow's ear. "If Rumble's here, he won't let them hurt you, okay? I know him. He's a good cat. You'll be safe with the rogues." She gave Minnow a weak smile. "You'll have the family you always wanted with them. For the brief time I was there…it felt a bit like I was with Robin, again."

"He'll hurt you…."

Nightshade took a deep breath. "I can take it. It's my fault for helping you go. But I'm willing to deal with the consequences." She glanced around. "They won't want to come out to help if I'm still here…but I don't think they'll kill me in front of you, either. You're innocent."

"What if they don't come? Or they come after you?"

Nightshade shrugged. "Don't worry about me. I'll come back tomorrow, to make sure you're not still there. I don't think there are badgers or foxes around; the forest isn't big enough to support many of them. You'll be fine, okay?"

Minnow gave her the smallest of nods. "Thank you, Nightshade."

Nightshade turned away, then hesitated. "A long time ago," she said slowly, "my name was Belladonna."

**AN: This might be the last Nightshade chappy before the battle, I'm not completely sure.**


	45. C h a p t e r 44

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**44**

She heard a rustle in the brush, and turned quickly, blinking with surprise as she spotted Stonestar's yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. He padded forward, coming to stand beside her; she could see several other pairs of eyes behind him.

"You're here?" she asked. Stonestar nodded slowly.

"We have an alliance now, do we not? I should be here when you meet with them."

Silverstreak nodded. "Yes, of course. I just didn't think you'd want to be here…they're all ex-kittypets and rogues from Twolegplace, and I know how you are."

Stonestar's whiskers twitched, and she hastened to say, "I'm not implying that it's a bad thing, by any means. Every cat feels differently about kittypets and rogues."

"I know," he said dryly, "your Clan is full of them."

Silverstreak nodded, unperturbed; her warriors couldn't change their parentage. "Most of them are, yes, but they're all warriors now in StarClan's eyes."

Stonestar's whiskers twitched again with surprise. "Are they here?"

There was a rustle behind Silverstreak, acting as her answer, and Stonestar nodded. "As much as I'd expect. How many?"

Silverstreak blinked at him coolly. "Does it matter?"

"If there are as many rogues as I'm scenting, yes."

Silverstreak blinked, opening her mouth, and realized that Stonestar was right; she could scent them now, Amber and Cane's rogues. She tensed, and Stonestar smiled slightly. Then, she blinked, realizing that Stonestar probably had no idea of who he was about to meet; Northstar didn't know much more, she was sure.

"Amber and Cane might not be what you expect," she said quietly. "They are not what you might expect—"

She was interrupted by the rustling of the brush, and turned to see Amber and a silver she-cat that she assumed was Flicka padding forward. Stonestar blinked slowly as Amber and Flicka settled down together; Silverstreak could smell more of Amber's cats, but for the moment they were hanging back.

"Greetings," Stonestar meowed, and Silverstreak's ears flattened slightly as she saw that he was nodding towards Flicka, not Amber. It was an easy mistake to make; Flicka held herself with a certain dignity and authority that was hard to miss.

"Welcome, Amber," Silverstreak meowed, making sure to nod towards the calico. Stonestar's eyes widened, and he quickly copied her. Amber's whiskers twitched.

"This is Flicka. I believe your equivalent of her position is deputy. My name is Amber." Her honey-golden eyes narrowed slightly. "I wasn't aware that there were two of you."

"My name is Silverstreak, and I lead AshClan," she meowed. "This is Stonestar, leader of PeakClan."

Stonestar looked at her quickly, and she thought he looked almost unnerved, although whether it was because her Clan now had a name, or because she had taken charge of the meeting and established herself as dominant by recognizing Amber as leader and introducing Stonestar.

"We both need your help, though," Stonestar meowed. "How much do you already know?"

Amber curled her thick tail around her paws. "I know some of the story, but not much. Natasha seemed to lack information herself. She—"A sudden hiss startled the two of them, and Silverstreak and Stonestar looked towards the edge of the clearing. Amber's troops were unnerved, and Amber's sharp eyes were watching as a growl shook the brush.

"Amber!" Cane spat, bursting into the clearing, his brown fur bristling. Silverstreak tensed, thinking that a battle would break out, but Amber appeared amused.

"I thought as much, as soon as Natasha came to me; she never does anything without consulting Mitch, and why contact me when there was you as well?" Amber ignored her brother, turning her sharp honey-colored eyes onto Silverstreak and Stonestar. "As I was saying—"

"Is this a trap?"Cane spat. "I assure you all I've come prepared!" His amber eyes were wild with hatred as he stared at his sister, but she appeared unruffled.

"This is not a trap, and there's no need for violence," Silverstreak said quickly. "In truth, we need you both."

Cane's eyes narrowed with suspicion, and remained standing.

"There is a threat coming, one that will endanger both the cats of the forest and the cats of the Twolegplace," Silverstreak meowed. "His name is Lion; he is a mad rogue out for revenge. He blames my father for getting his family killed in a battle between the Clans. My father is dead, and so he has turned his attention on to me. Lion and his followers are coming here to kill me, and destroy both my Clan and PeakClan."

Amber's ear flicked lazily; Cane was drawn in despite himself, sitting down, keeping a safe distance between himself and his sister.

"We believe that Lion will attack you both as well, before or after he takes down the clans. His lust for revenge cannot be satisfied, not even by wiping out the Clans. When he defeats us – and he will, if we do not have allies – he will turn on you. Or, he might try to conquer you first to ensure he has enough cats to defeat us."

"And you think he will actually be able to succeed in defeating us both?" Cane demanded.

"He will be able to; he has enough cats to do so. The former leader, whom Lion defeated in battle, sent out many scouts. These scouts will have brought back news of other small groups; pockets of rogues existing in various locations. He'll conquer them and force them into his ranks, growing stronger with each conquest. He knows where we are; when he comes here, he will either attack us first if he's strong enough, or attempt to gather more followers by taking Twolegplace first. It will be a tough battle, but we think Lion will be able to defeat you, and put both of your groups under his rule."

"We don't take orders from anyone," both Amber and Cane spat at the same time. They exchanges glances, ruffled their fur, and looked away.

"No matter what happens, your groups with both sustain heavy losses," Stonestar growled. "Either way, you will both use many cats."

"This all sounds like guesswork to me," Amber meowed. "You don't know what he's managed to gain, and you don't know what his attack plans are, or how effective they'll be. What _do _you actually know?"

Silverstreak flicked her tail. Behind her, Eaglestrike and Brightfire came forward, moving to sit next to her.

"We know that, at heart, Lion is a good cat," Brightfire growled. "We know that, at heart, he is not a coward. He will do whatever is necessary to win his battles. We know that he is not the type for subterfuge or guerrilla attacks. When it comes to a battle, he will be right there on the front lines, ready to end everything."

"We know he is incredibly powerful," Eaglestrike meowed. "I was a witness to this, when I saw Lion take down Slaughter and his nine guards."

Amber and Cane's gazes were both carefully guarded, but the tip of Cane's tail was twitching with interest.

"He will not dance around his problems. And, although he was once a noble cat, he will not hesitate to throw all of his forces at you," Brightfire continued. "He has many, many cats, more than you can hope to fight off. He will send them in, wave after wave, without any care for their well-being or lives. Unless you're equally callous with your own cats, you won't be able to stop him."

"Not only that, but because he is so upfront, he will be the only trying to kill you both. He doesn't have any henchmen to do it for him. He'll kill you, take your cats, and move on," Eaglestrike meowed. "Without help, there is absolutely no way that he could fail to defeat you."

Amber and Cane exchanged glances, and Silverstreak smiled slightly.

_They're opposites, and they hate each other, but they're the perfect pair. If they could get over those feelings, they could take over the entire Twolegplace and the forest too, if they wanted. The hatred is probably a good thing._

"And if we help you, we can rely on your help as well?" Amber asked suspiciously.

Silverstreak nodded, but Stonestar spoke first, trying to take charge of the situation.

"Of course," he rumbled. "PeakClan honors their agreements."

"As does AshClan."

Cane's lip curled. "As much as I _despise _working with my sister, it would appear we have no choice," he hissed.

"I wouldn't put it past Carmelo to try and seize power from us during the battle, attacking us from the other side to divide our forces," Amber agreed.

Silverstreak let out a quiet purr. "Thank you both very much. We're grateful to have you and your cats on our side." She dipped her head to them; Amber copied the movement, but Cane looked on warily, fur still bristling slightly.

"We're leaving now," he announced with a growl.

"We'll need to meet again, to discuss our movements when Lion does arrive," Stonestar said quickly. "At the half-moon."

Cane flicked his tail in acknowledgement, before stalking away. Amber turned her head slightly to watch him go, before turning back to the Clan cats.

"Clever, getting us both here and giving us no choice but to ally with you," she meowed. "Don't ever even think of doing something like that again. Next time, we won't be so complacent, understand? We aren't at the Clans' beck and call."She rose to her paws as well, and led Flicka and her hidden followers away. Silverstreak let out a quiet breath as their rustling grew distant.

"Well, that went okay, don't you think?" she asked, giving Stonestar a smile. His face was impassive, but his eyes narrowed.

_Trouble, _Silverstreak thought nervously. "Eaglestrike, Brightfire, you both go on home," she said quietly. "I think Stonestar and I need to talk."

Eaglestrike looked worried, but she gave him a flick of her ear, and he nodded, leaving the clearing with Brightfire. Silverstreak turned back to Stonestar, cocking her head slightly to one side. "What's bothering you?"

Stonestar moved forward suddenly, shoving his muzzle in her face, letting out a low growl. "Never presume that you are higher than me, rogue. StarClan might have guided you here, but that doesn't make your Clan better than mine. You don't even have your nine lives; do not give me orders, and do not act as though I'm just your eager apprentice, responsible only for what you order me to do. I am the leader of PeakClan, the original Clan in this forest, and you would do well to remember that."

Fear knotted in Silverstreak's stomach, but she kept her face carefully blank as she gave him a small nod. "Of course, Stonestar, I apologize. In no way do I believe that your Clan is less than mine."

Stonestar snorted. "Of course you don't. That's why you barged into our forest, stole half our territory, led an insane rogue to our home, and bargain with street cats to save your own pelts." He turned away, and Silverstreak's ears flattened.

_Despite my efforts – or perhaps because of them – our relationship with PeakClan is not good, _she worried. _He's right, we've been a little…aggressive when it comes to meeting our goals. Well, I'll fix that. Tomorrow night, I'm getting my nine lives; then we'll be on equal footing. Perhaps we can have some sort of meeting between our Clans…._

"Good night, Stonestar," she meowed, but the gray tom was already gone. She sighed quietly before turning and returning to her own camp.

. . .

She opened her eyes and yawned as bright sunlight streamed into the den. She rolled over onto her side, expecting the warmth of another cat, but there was nothing there. She blinked, and then realized that she was in her own den, not the warrior's den. She shook herself; the few nights she'd slept with her warriors, she'd already become accustomed to their warmth.

_Being a leader is lonely in that way, _she thought, and rose to her paws, poking her nose out of her camp. There was little reason to work, since the rain had pushed most of the ash out of camp, and last night they had taken care of most of the branches. She looked at the pile of them pushed off to one side, waiting to be pushed into a mound, atop which she could address her Clan.

_But I don't have my nine lives for that, _she thought. Her fur prickled; tonight, that would change. Tonight, she would speak with StarClan.

She padded out of her den, moving swiftly into the medicine den, stopping as she saw that Ravenwing and Shimmerpaw were working to sort herbs.

"And those?" Ravenwing asked, flicking her tail towards a mound of small black seeds.

"Poppy seeds, duh," Shimmerpaw mewed, flicking a few more towards the mound with her paw.

"And what do they do?"

"Take 'way pain, make 'em sleepy," Shimmerpaw answered.

"And who don't we give them to?"

Shimmerpaw frowned, clearly puzzled by the question. "Um…elders? Cuz if they go to sleep they might not wake back up, cuz they so old?"

Ravenwing's whiskers twitched, but she was obviously trying to look stern. "No, Shimmerpaw. We talked about this before; you don't give poppy seeds to queens, because they can hurt the kits. What do you give to queens?"

Shimmerpaw glanced around the den, before her gaze settled on a pile of green leaves. She flicked her tail to them. "They make milk for the kits."

"And what are they called?"

"Bo…sage…boron…something like that," Shimmerpaw meowed. Ravenwing shook her head.

"Borage, Shimmerpaw, remember that."

Shimmerpaw rolled her bright blue eyes. "What does it matter what they're called? I'm not gonna tell the warriors to 'go find me some borage, me lovely min-yuns". They dunno what that is."

"It's just part of being a medicine cat; if you talked to another medicine cat about treatment, you can't say 'those leaves that make the queens give milk', you have to say borage leaves. Sometimes more than one plant does the same thing, so you need names. Now what are they?"

"Borage leaves," Shimmerpaw mumbled. Silverstreak coughed quietly, and Shimmerpaw's head turned, brightening as she saw her leader.

"'Ey," she chirped, bouncing towards Silverstreak.

"Hello, Silverstreak," Ravenwing purred, although she looked a little embarrassed about Silverstreak hearing Shimmerpaw's stubbornness. "Something wrong?"

Silverstreak shook her head, sitting down and curling her silver tail around her paws. "Actually, things are looking good; Cane and Amber sided with us. But Stonestar made a good point last night; I need my nine lives before I can really throw myself into everything. And I think we should go tonight."

Ravenwing blinked in surprise. Then, her green eyes took on an excited glow. "Of course, Silverstreak." She turned to smile at Shimmerpaw, who looked confused.

"What are we doin'?" the silver apprentice asked.

"We're going to speak to StarClan tonight," Ravenwing purred. Shimmerpaw's eyes widened.

"Like when I became a real apprentice?" she asked, and Ravenwing nodded. Shimmerpaw's icy blue eyes glowed with excitement.

"Tonight?"she asked, bouncing on her paws.

"But before we go, we have to sort these herbs, okay?" Ravenwing asked firmly. Shimmerpaw nodded quickly, and her paws began moving so quickly through the sorted herbs that they seemed to fly to the correct spots. Silverstreak's whiskers twitched, and Ravenwing smiled.

"She's a quick learner, and has plenty of energy," she whispered, "she's just a bit stubborn from time to time."

Silverstreak nodded, watching as Shimmerpaw pushed the borage leaves to the side to make room for more poppy seeds.

"She's going to make an excellent medicine cat."

. . .

She spent the day with Forest hunting, but this time she made sure to keep away from any mud or water. Newleaf was only a moon away, but the forest was already starting to change, bits of green poking through the still-damp earth. It heartened Silverstreak, even though finding prey in the forest was difficult.

Silverstreak stopped walking, looking up at the sky; the sun was starting to set.

"We should dig up the prey and get back, it's getting late," she mewed. Forest licked her ear, pressing his pelt against hers.

"Are you sure you want to?" he asked, green eyes glinting. "I was hoping we could hang out here for awhile. I mean, if you want to go back, I could hang out at your den…keep you warm…it's still cold outside, you know." He grinned at her playfully, and she felt a tingle running through her fur. She pressed her muzzle against his side, feeling his deep purring shake his body.

She had to force herself to pull away. "I've got to speak to StarClan tonight," she meowed. " I'm going to get my nine lives."

Forest's eyes widened. "So I'm going to have to start calling you Silverstar?"

She smiled. "Princess works just as well."

He rubbed his muzzle over her ear, still purring. "Fine. Tomorrow night, maybe?"

She opened her mouth to say yes, then hesitated. The life of a leader was a lonely one; unlike medicine cats, leaders could take mates, but kits…they were not for she-cats who expected to lead a Clan. She'd never really thought about starting a family before, she'd never been in love or thought that she ever would be…but now it was a true possibility, and she had the heavy cloud of leadership hanging over her.

She realized that she'd moved away slightly, and Forest was watching her with worry in his gentle green eyes.

"Something wrong, princess?" he asked.

"No, no," she said quickly. "I'm just a bit, um, anxious. Getting nine lives…it's a big step. We'll really be a Clan."

Forest nodded, nuzzling her. "Don't be worried. You'll be fine. I'd come with you if I could, but I doubt I'd be welcome. Come on, let's get back to camp; you'll need to leave at sunset so you'll have the whole night with them, right?"

Silverstreak nodded, and the two of them padded back to where they had buried their catches, dug them up, and headed back to camp.

. . .

"The great thing about living so close is that we don't need to prepare traveling herbs," Ravenwing purred. Silverstreak nodded, watching as Ravenwing and Shimmerpaw finished sorting the last of the herbs.

"Well, off you go," Ravenwing said brightly, as she placed a few marigold petals to one side. "Be careful."

Shimmerpaw blanched. "What? Aren't you coming?"

Ravenwing shook her head. "I'm not a real medicine cat, it's not my place. I had to be there when you become our medicine apprentice, but this is an experience only for medicine cats and leaders. I'm a warrior now; I gave up stuff like this a long time ago."

Shimmerpaw's ears flattened. "But…I don't know enough for this."

Ravenwing nuzzled her apprentice. "You don't have to, Shimmerpaw. You just have to watch, make sure that everything's okay, and keep your ears open in case StarClan decides to tell you something important."

Silverstreak smiled down at the little apprentice. "We'll be fine, Shimmerpaw. I trust you."

Emotion clouded Shimmerpaw's eyes, and she quickly looked down at her paws. "Thanks."

Ravenwing licked Shimmerpaw's ear. "Go on, then, you're both wasting moonlight. You don't want to keep StarClan waiting."

Silverstreak flicked her tail. "Come on then, Shimmerpaw. Let's go have a cozy chat with StarClan, shall we?"

That brought a tentative smile to Shimmerpaw's face, and the two of them padded out of the den, leaving the camp behind them.

They broke into a run, heading for the river. It was swollen from the rain, but even the thunderstorm wasn't enough to make it rise to its former glory. They sprang over the stepping stones dappled by moonlight together, disappearing behind the silver waterfall and walking down the dark tunnel. Silverstreak's pelt prickled with excitement, her heartbeat thudding in her ears as they entered the cavern. The Pool of Stars spread out before them, shining like the stars themselves.

Silverstreak took a deep breath, glancing down at Shimmerpaw; the apprentice's blue eyes glittered at her in the gloom.

"Are you ready?" Silverstreak whispered. Mutely, Shimmerpaw nodded. They padded forward, shivering together as the water chilled their paws. Silverstreak bent down and lapped up the water, feeling the tingle against her tongue. She instantly felt weary, sinking to the ground, the water numbing her muzzle as her eyes closed.

_She opened her eyes to see the familiar misty clearing. She turned, and saw Shimmerpaw standing beside her, looking confused._

"_When I spoke to them, we were at the lake," she whispered._

"_StarClan appears where you're comfortable, sometimes," Silverstreak meowed. "They were trying to make you feel safe."_

_Shimmerpaw's ears flattened. "This place…it doesn't feel safe."_

_Silverstreak opened her mouth, only to blind as the shadowy shapes appeared, indistinguishable from one another. Then, one padded forward, and the scent of ash hit Silverstreak's nose._

"_Ashstir," she said with a slight smile, and the gray tabby smiled back at her._

"_Welcome, Silverstreak," he meowed. "You know why you are here. You're ready to receive your nine lives."_

_Silverstreak dipped her head. "I am. I'm ready to become the leader of AshClan."_

_Ashstir laughed quietly. "I'm honored that you named the Clan after me, although I know the name was for other reasons as well. Very well, then; let us begin." He took a step forward, his ashy scent growing in her nose as he reached out to touch her._

"_With this life, I give you leadership itself," he meowed. "Use it to show your Clan their new path, and guide them through their coming struggles." _

_He touched her nose, and it was suddenly as if her pelt was aflame. She tried to scream, but her mouth would not open as the ashy scent became unbearable, blocking out everything as images raced through her head, too quickly for her to blink. She saw a silver she-cat with green eyes, heard the rumble of the Twolegs as they blazed a strange path through the lake, killing and driving away the prey, heard her Kalanmates cry out with fear and despair as their bellies rumbled from hunger, watched as the silver she-cat's stomach swelled, felt her own heart swell with love as she gazed at her unborn kits. And then, pain, unimaginable pain, as she felt herself slipping away to a place of dazzling stars…._

_Her eyes shot open, and she realized her heart was racing. She swayed on her paws unsteadily, and felt Shimmerpaw's warmth against her side as the little apprentice strained to hold her up._

"_Thank you," she whispered, regaining her composure. _Will they all be this way?

_Ashstir gave her a slight nod, then moved to allow another cat to come forward. This one was a black she-cat with bright green eyes; it took Silverstreak a moment to place her._

"_Leafshadow? FrozenClan's medicine cat?" she asked, surprise ringing in her voice._

_The she-cat nodded. "When I died, I was known as Sprig…but in the past, I went by Leafshadow._

"_What happened to you?" Silverstreak asked. "You disappeared, and no one knew where you went…what happened?"_

"_I watched as Northstar allowed a fox to tear his father apart," Sprig meowed, her voice dull. "My life was forfeit; I had to flee."_

_Silverstreak paled. "But…because you ran away, Northstar took control of ForestClan. He destroyed the forest Clans!"_

_Sprig bowed her head, her starry green eyes clouded. "I know. To this day, leaving instead of risking my life to save the Clans is my biggest regret. My destiny was elsewhere, and still important, but…I wish I could have stopped the slaughter of the forest Clans. If I had been able to share the truth about Northstar, even if it had resulted in my death, so much pain could have been averted…medicine cats are sworn to prevent pain." She sighed softly, then reached towards Silverstreak. "That is why with this life, I give you justice. You must always make sure that the truth is known, and use it to lead your Clan. Secrets are more trouble than they're worth, as the past generations of the Clans have discovered."_

"_They discovered…?" Silverstreak started to ask, but went rigid with pain as Sprig's noses touched hers. She felt the ex-medicine cat's deep sorrow and burning regret, her longing for the mountain rogue lifestyle that she'd grown up in, strange memories filled with a blind tom and various herbs…._

_When Sprig pulled away, Silverstreak was left reeling, unable to make sense of the images and feelings, unable to separate them from her own. It took her several moments to clear her mind, and when she did she saw that Sprig was speaking to Shimmerpaw._

"_For now, I'll take Ravenwing's place as your mentor; I shall teach you things that she herself did not learn in your dreams. Soon you will not need me, as another takes my place…but there is little that I can say about that right now. Soon, you will understand."_

_Shimmerpaw's eyes glowed. "A StarClan cat is going to train me? I…I'm worth that?"_

_Sprig simply smiled, and padded away, rejoining the others._

_The next cat made her heart leap._

"_Doveflight!" she exclaimed, and had to resist the urge to race towards the gray she-cat._

"_Silverstreak," Doveflight purred, nuzzling her friend. "It's good to see you."_

"_I'm so sorry, Doveflight, that I couldn't protect you…and your…." Silverstreak trailed off. Doveflight's ears flattened, and she simply nodded._

"_It wasn't your fault, Silverstreak. There was nothing you could have done, even if you had fought with BirchClan. Don't feel guilty…here. With this life, I ask you to remember that everyone deserves a second chance. Every cat, no matter how far gone, is worth that." She touched noses with Silverstreak, and Silverstreak's eyes widened at the tide of emotion flooding from the cat she'd once secretly trained._

_She saw glimpses of Doveflight's life as a kit, wandering with her mother through the forest, watching from the safety of a tree as her mother fought to protect her, saw Fadedstar's face as he looked down at her, felt his warm tongue lick her ear as he welcomed her into the Clan. She felt Doveflight's resentment towards the Clan, blaming them for her mother's death. She felt her despair as she received Badgerfang as a mentor, knowing he could never train her to be a true warrior, and her bitterness deepened by this perceived slight of BirchClan towards her. She saw the glimmer of moonlight over a silver pelt as a she-cat with blue eyes smiled and asked,_

"_Would you like to train with me?"_

_She heard her warrior name being chanted, ringing in her ears. She saw Squirrelfur's small smile as he watched her eat, the touch of his fur against hers, his kits swelling her belly. And then, pain, burning pain as enemy warriors slashed wounds all over her body. She didn't stop fighting, not until the last breath, refusing to give in to her enemy. Stars scorched her vision, and she realized that her belly was empty. Sorrow took over her, reducing her to a quivering lump of fur. Her kits had never been born, never experienced life; they could not follow her._

_When Silverstreak opened her eyes, she realized that she had moved forward, pressing her nose into Doveflight's fur._

"_I'm so sorry," she whispered. They stayed together for a moment, until Doveflight pulled away gently._

"_I'd say it was okay, but it's not," the starry she-cat said softly. "In StarClan, I can't have kits. I missed my chance…but the blame lies with Northstar and FrozenClan, not you. Okay?"_

"_I'll make sure they pay," Silverstreak hissed, grinding her teeth together with anger. _How could StarClan let that happen to her? She turned her entire life around, but….

"_There's no one to make pay, not anymore," Doveflight meowed, her ears flat against her head. "FrozenClan is in tatters. Northstar…I'll admit, I still hate him. Being in StarClan doesn't make you a saint. But…StarClan has other plans for him. He's had his own troubles in life; they don't excuse his actions, but…." She sighed quietly. "The best way you could make it up to me would be by becoming the mentor to your Clan that you were for me."_

_Warmth blossomed in Silverstreak's chest. "I promise, I will. I swear, Doveflight."_

_Doveflight gave her a small nod, and turned away, padding away to allow the next cat to take her place._

_She recognized his ginger pelt immediately. "Flameheart," she meowed, and he gave her a warm smile. He was not the battered tom she had watch die; he was glowing with health now, the familiar warmth back in his amber eyes._

"_Frostfeather misses you, still," Silverstreak meowed. "I think she blames you for her death. She still feels guilty that she wasn't there to help in the battle."_

_Flameheart let out a quiet purr. "Ah, Frostfeather. Never loyal to the same tom twice, but always loyal to her Clan. If you could tell her not to worry, it would ease my mind, but sadly you cannot. Come here, Silverstreak. With this life, I give you kindness. You found me dying, with a dead FrozenClan warrior beside me. We were supposed to be enemies, but he ended up helping to ease my pain. Kindness is a rare thing, often too rare. Use it to heal your Clan, and help them push past their challenges."_

_They touched noses, and Flameheart's scorching heat filled her, burning through her entire body. She only had a second to process the images – playing with his siblings in the leaves, being named a warrior, touching noses with Frostpaw, his new apprentice, letting out a hiss of pain as he laid on his side, eyes widening in surprise as the nameless FrozenClan warrior staggered back to him with damp moss in his jaws, being surrounded by the remnants of his Clan as he laid dying, slipping off to the stars with a quiet sigh._

"_Thank you," Silverstreak meowed. Flameheart nodded, touching her shoulder with his glittering tail, before padding away._

_Another smile rose to her muzzle as she recognized the next cat. His age had disappeared, as if the years had melted away as he climbed into the stars._

"_Silverstar," she purred, giving him a respectful nod._

"_I might have to change my name now," he rumbled. "I'm glad you're here."_

"_Where did you go?" she asked._

"_Here, you'll see," he meowed, reaching forward. "With this life, I give you loyalty. Use it to strength your Clan's bonds and keep them together." _

_Their noses touched, and again Silverstreak was overwhelmed with the force of Silverstar's life. She watched him grow up, saw him crossing the mountains as a young cat, watched as he helped his Clan stake out the beach as their own, saw him ascend to deputy and then leader when Graystar fell. She saw him greeting his old friend from their journey, Fadedstar, saw them go into the mountains with Shadestar to tame the rogues. She watched as ShellClan was overrun by FrozenClan, watched as Silverstar fled for his life even as he was choked by the forest-sickness. She watched as he fled to the Twolegplace, where he managed to hang on under the care of two strange she-cats until he finally passed away._

"_Like Leafshadow, I have regrets," Silverstar meowed as the two of them broke apart. "I regret not staying with my Clan, showing them the loyalty they deserved, fulfilling my duties as a leader by dying with my Clan. I fled like a coward, only to die in Twoleg filth. Loyalty is one of the most important things, for a leader and for a Clan."_

_Silverstreak nodded. "I understand, Silverstar. Thank you."_

_He nodded, padding away, then paused. "Remember those two she-cats I showed you. They're important."_

_She blinked, puzzled, but the next tom was already padding forward. It was Shadestar, former leader of MarshClan. She swallowed nervously; she didn't know him very well compared to the other leaders. MarshClan was always the small, bullied Clan; BirchClan and MarshClan had fought many skirmishes._

_She dipped her head to him, but Shadestar was expressionless._

"_With this life, I give you friendship," he said softly. "Create a close relationship with your Clan and your warriors, and they will do anything for you. You can unlock their potential, like you did with Doveflight."_

_Silverstreak nodded, steeling herself, but there was no preparing for the roar of power as they touched noses. His memories swept over her, and she watched as he crossed the mountains, even younger than Fadedstar and Silverstar, watched as he climbed his way through the ranks of the Clan, watched as he befriended young Brownpaw and mentored her to become the best she could be, watched as he named her as his deputy, watched as the forest-sickness swept him away as his Clan collapsed._

"_Because of our friendship, Brownfur became much more than she would have otherwise," he meowed. "I know she took on an apprentice much like you did, helping Fernpaw overcome her disability caused by FrozenClan's evil. If FrozenClan hadn't destroyed our Clan, I know Brownfur and Fernpaw would have been better because of it."_

"_It always comes back to FrozenClan, doesn't it? What they did to us?" Silverstreak asked. "After all I've seen, all I know…how can I _not _take revenge on them now? How do I not avenge the fallen?"_

"_Here, in StarClan, Fernpaw can see," Shadestar said quietly. "She can still train, perhaps become a warrior of StarClan. She's whole again."_

"_And Doveflight? She can't have kits here. She can't create new spirits in the stars," Silverstreak mewed. Shadestar nodded._

"_StarClan mourns her loss, but she is not the first queen to be killed. Others have suffered, and StarClan has seen that revenge just brings more bloodshed. FrozenClan was wrong in their conquest of the Clans. Don't become them just for the sake of revenge."_

_Silverstreak nodded, and Shadestar padded away. Then, her heart sprang in her chest as she saw one of the cats she'd been most hoping to see approaching._

"_Mother," she whispered, and it was all she could do not to run forward. She settled for pressing her nose into her mother's fur, breathing in her scent; it was still the same, even with her new shining pelt._

"_Silverstreak," Whitefrost purred in her ear, but there was something strange in her voice. Silverstreak pulled away, wondering if she'd violated some sort of ceremonial rule, but Whitefrost simply gazed at her, blinking her green eyes._

"_I'm glad you're safe, here," Silverstreak meowed. "I mean, I saw you, that night before the battle…I knew you were here…but it's good to see you again. Have I done well?"_

"_You've done more than I ever hoped, and I've always had high hopes for you," Whitefrost meowed. "It's time for you to take your life from me. With this life, I give you love. Use it to defend and protect your Clan, shield them from harm, and…have the strength to do what must be done."_

_Silverstreak blinked at the aching sorrow of her mother's voice, but before she could question it, her mother had pressed her nose against hers, and Silverstreak was filled with her mother's fierce strength. Silverstreak drank it as a thirsty kit might gulp from a puddle; she wanted her mother's spirit to fill her with her strength, to absorb all of the determination and spirit that her mother had held. The images flashed through her mind, but they were strange, not what Silverstreak had always heard of her mother's past._

_She watched as her mother climbed the mountains, alone, without a Clan, as she caught her first prey in the mountains, a gray mouse, as she snuggled against her mother's side somewhere in a high den, as she looked down on a burnt forest, as she watched the new cats curiously, as she crept into the forest to learn about them, as she saw a pale silver tabby with eyes so faint they were almost white staring at her across the river, as she and the tabby – Fadedstar – fell in love, as she argued with a tom that Silverstreak realized to be Frozenstar, as she curled up in a den with Fadedstar at her side, looking down at two beautiful silver kits – two? – as she crept into the mountains in the dead of night, laying one kit at the entrance of FrozenClan's camp before fleeing, as she watched Silverstreak grow from Silverkit to Silverpaw to the future deputy of ForestClan. She watched as her mother fought courageously, as she fell to a FrozenClan warrior, as the glowing stars obscured her vision._

_Silverstreak's eyes shot open, and she stared at her mother in disbelief. _

"_What was that? Those memories…you said you and Father grew up together! You always said I was the only kit in your litter!" She was reeling, feeling as though she was about to collapse. Whitefrost smiled at her sadly, and sighed._

"_There was so much we meant to tell you, when it was time," she meowed. "It looks like the time is now."_

_Whitefrost looked over her shoulder, and another cat appeared, padding towards them. Silverstreak stared in disbelief, hearing Shimmerpaw gasp beside her, as a silver tabby with Whitefrost's green eyes came to stand before her._

**AN: On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad was this cliffhanger?**

**Bleh, I'm having some serious block here. I think it's because I haven't killed anyone off in awhile, hmm.**

**Also, whooo remembers Fernpaw from the One-Shots? Eh? Eh?**

Sorry for how long this update took; I'm sure you all know about the God-awful glitching that has FFN in its grasp. However, as I discovered, there is a way around it; after clicking "Edit" in the "My Stories" bit, replace "properties" in the URL with "content"!


	46. C h a p t e r 45: Rumble & Northstar

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**45: Rumble & Northstar**

"Well?" he asked, glancing towards his brother. "What do you want us to do?"

Tremor stared through the brush, looking at the bloody lump of fur that Nightshade had left for them.

Griffin let out a hiss. "If that murderer thinks we're going to take care of her trash, she's got another thing coming! We should kill this cat, and leave her body as a message!"

Rumble could almost feel the heat of his stare. He could feel Griffin's rage, masking his hopeless sorrow at losing the only cat in the world who mattered to him.

"We can't just kill her," Rumble said softly. He heard Griffin turn, felt the golden tabby's breath hot against his face.

"Why not?" Griffin spat. "Just because you're as soft as a baby mouse doesn't mean we shouldn't have our revenge!"

"What do you sense from her, Rumble?" Tremor growled. Rumble opened his mouth, wincing at the scent of blood and filth.

"I'd need to get closer, but she's obviously been mistreated," Rumble meowed. He rose to his paws and padded forward slowly, pushing the brush aside with his muzzle. His eyes were closed as he walked; more than once he'd narrowly avoided a branch to the eye purely by luck.

Her scent grew stronger in his nose, and he stopped a few feet away, simply watching without seeing.

"Are you Rumble?" the she-cat asked, her voice whisper soft. "Your eyes…they're closed."

Rumble heard Griffin's hiss of disgust at her observation behind him, but the injured she-cat's ears were not keen enough to pick it up.

"I am Rumble," he said quietly, sitting down, "and I am blind." He opened his eyes, feeling her discomfort; he had been told that his gaze was strange, even somewhat creepy.

"Are you going to help me?"

Her voice was quiet, broken; whatever had happened to her, it had been incredibly damaging, that much was obvious.

He could feel her now, that faint vibration that he could sense around every cat. He listened for a moment, cocking his head to one side, unaware as to whether his gaze was directed towards her or if he was simply staring into space. It didn't matter.

Finally, he turned to Tremor. "There is no ill will within her. I believe we should help."

Griffin let out a furious hiss. "Her friend killed my sister! She's her ally!"

"If they were allies, she wouldn't be this badly hurt, and she wouldn't have been left here," Rumble replied. Just the thought of Nightshade sent a pang through his heart. Her vibrations had been cloudy, murky; even she wasn't sure who he was. One thing was certain, however; Blight was another thing entirely. There was great evil in him; there had been evil in Scorpion and Shredder as well, but they had changed. There was even evil in Griffin, but he was still a good cat; Rumble had hoped Blight would change as well. But, then, he'd started to unravel the true relationship between Nightshade and Blight, and he'd known there was no saving the gray tabby. And without Blight, he knew Nightshade would never have stayed behind.

_If I'd had more time with her…perhaps I could have made her see reason, _he thought sadly. _But there's no time for that now. These rogues, my friends…they'd never consent to having her among us, or helping her._

_But this rogue…she's innocent. She's uncorrupted. Blight hasn't yet gotten to her. Perhaps she can be saved._

"Come on," he called over his shoulder. "We need to take her to camp." He smiled in the she-cat's general direction. "I'd take you myself, but you'd probably be even more banged up when we reached camp. I'm not very good at avoiding obstacles."

She didn't laugh, but Rumble thought he heard a lightening in her breath.

There was a crackling behind him, as Tremor emerged from hiding cautiously. He paused beside Rumble.

"Are you certain about this?" he asked quietly, quietly enough that only Rumble could hear. "If we take her back with us, help her, and she's another Nightshade…."

"I'm certain," Rumble murmured. "Please. Trust me."

"You can't listen to him!" he heard Griffin spit. "He said there was nothing wrong with Nightshade, and look what she did!"

"Nightshade is confused, lost; the evil was within Blight," Rumble meowed. "This she-cat is devoid of evil or confusion. She's simply a young cat here alone, injured, and friendless."

Tremor sighed, and Rumble heard the she-cat's gasp of pain as she was lifted. He followed his brother, feeling his brother's tail tickle his nose; after many moons of running into trees and rocks, he and his brother had finally decided that there had to be some sort of system for Rumble walking with him in the forest. One tap on the nose meant duck, two meant stop. Tremor had learned to tap quickly when he wanted Rumble to stop; for several moons he had been too slow, meaning that Rumble had bumped into his brother often. Tremor was better at it now, but Rumble had fallen into a habit of pausing and giving an odd head-bobbing movement whenever his nose was touched.

They walked for some time, and Rumble allowed his mine to wander; he could feel Tremor's uncertainty, Griffin's crackling anger, the silver she-cat's quiet pain.

_We need to know her story, _he thought, and stopped as he received a double tap on his nose. _But first, we need to heal her._

He knew they were in camp by the slightly sandy feeling under his paws, and the faint smell of salt in the air; the rogue band had settled in SandClan's old camp. It was a good place to be – they had dens, a place for food, and it was easy to defend if TalonClan found them. TalonClan, however, had little use for the camp; only ShellClan could tolerate the gritty sand and sting of salt, and most of TalonClan disliked their fishy prey. That, coupled with the fact that TalonClan was not aware of their presence, made ShellClan's camp the perfect hideaway.

"Take her to my den, please," Rumble said quietly. He heard Tremor nod, the slightest rub of fur against fur, and heard him pad away. Rumble didn't need his brother's help in the camp; the first thing he had done was familiarize himself with the camp.

He padded towards their makeshift fresh-kill pile, a policy that he had initiated after his first contact with the starry cats. It certainly came in handy, at times like these, especially for a blind cat who could not hunt.

He sniffed the small pile of prey, finally selecting a fish; a minnow, if he was judging the taste correctly. With the prey in his jaws he padded into his den; a large cat would have had to duck to avoid hitting his head on a rock, but Rumble was small and slim.

His brother was already out of the den; it was just Rumble and the strange she-cat. He dropped the minnow, nudging it towards her, before heading for his herbs, pawing through them as he decided which to use. Further examination of her wounds would be needed to treat properly, but he wanted her to feel comfortable first.

"What is your name?" he asked. "As you already know, mine is Rumble. The cat who carried you here is my brother, Tremor. He leads our band of rogues. His second in command is Griffin, the golden tabby."

"I'm Minnow," the she-cat said softly. Rumble's whiskers twitched slightly, and he turned his muzzle towards her, his eyes open.

"Would you mind if I looked over your wounds?" he asked quietly. "I need to know where they are, and how bad."

"Nightshade trusted you…so I trust you too. I don't mind."

Rumble padded towards her, slowly so that he didn't accidentally bump into her. Gently, he ran his paws over her, grooming her as he worked; the movements of his paws seemed to soothe her, and he was gentle enough that when his paws found a wound he skirted over it without causing too much pain.

His expression did not show it, but inwardly he hissed; her wounds were severe, possibly life-threatening if not treated. Most of them were around her face and shoulders, although she had a long laceration running down her belly.

"How did this happen?" he asked quietly, moving towards his herbs. He felt Minnow snap out of the lull his grooming had put her in immediately; he could almost feel her gaze on his pelt. "If you don't want to say, that's fine."

"I don't," she mewed, and Rumble nodded.

"Just tell me one thing," he meowed as he selected his herbs, bringing them towards her. "Could Nightshade be hurt as well?"

"The cat who did this…yes. I think he did the same to her, once, and if he finds out she brought me here…." Minnow trailed off, and her fear scent grew sharp in his nose. Was she afraid that she had said too much?

"His name is Blight, is it not?" he asked. "I met them both before, about a moon ago…now, I just need you to relax. This will hurt, but I will be gentle. See the orange petals? They'll keep you free of infection. A few of these leaves will help your wounds heal more quickly, and the cobwebs will bind them."

He could feel a question on the tip of her tongue, and it was easy to guess what it was. "My brother has described things to me, colors and the like, so that it is easy for me to communicate with those that can see."

"Have you always been blind?"

"When I was very young, I could see like anyone else, but I was stricken with a disease that blinded me and made me small and fragile, as you see. I cannot remember what the world looks like."

"That's…very sad."

Rumble smiled. "It is alright; I hear enough of my brother's stories to build myself a world."He thought about mentioning the starry cats, then hesitated; speaking of them with Nightshade had felt right, but ended in disaster when she'd killed Phoenix, Swansong, and Scorpion. There was no way of knowing if he had impacted that, but he didn't want to take another chance…not that Minnow would be killing anyone in her current state. "Hold still, please."

He set to work as quickly as he could; he didn't know how much time had passed. Time had little meaning for him; he couldn't track the movements of the sun or the moon without sight. His body knew when to drink, when to eat, and when to sleep; that was all that really mattered.

He sat back, finally, and Minnow let out the breath she'd been holding as she bit back her sounds of pain. Rumble brushed his tail over her flank, a comforting gesture.

"Just rest for now," he advised. "Tremor doesn't know what to do with you yet, but we'll figure that out when the time comes. For now, just allow your body to heal."

He felt Minnow nod, and with that he padded out of the den, giving her a bit of space to herself.

He headed to the fresh-kill pile for himself this time, feeling the familiar flicker of guilt as he chose a piece of prey for himself. Tremor always assured him that he more than made up for his inability to hunt or fight by being able to heal his fellow rogues.

His ear flicked and he turned his muzzle slightly, sensing paws approaching; it was Tremor. He could tell by his brother's long strides, and how he slightly favored his front left paw over his right, due to a kithood injury.

"Well, did you find anything out?" Tremor growled, lying down next to his brother.

"Her name is Minnow, and she definitely knew both Nightshade and Blight, although I'm not sure how much she knows about the two of them," Rumble answered, "but I think we just need to let her rest for now. She'll tell us what she knows when she's ready."

He could feel Tremor's discomfort. "I don't want her with us for long."

"Scorpion and Shredder were not good cats when they came to us," Rumble reminded him. "Griffin can only be considered good because he had his sister to even him out. Now, he doesn't even have that. Minnow doesn't have an evil bone in her body; there's no reason she can't be allowed to stay with us until she's well, if not longer." He could tell he wasn't impressing Tremor with his argument. "She could have valuable information about Nightshade as well," he continued, and Tremor sighed quietly.

"Fine," he meowed, sounding tired. "This crusade, for vengeance…I overheard Merla and Pyro making plans the other day, planning what to do with Nightshade when we catch her…." Tremor shook his head. "Kits shouldn't be thinking of such things. They shouldn't have to."

"Life as a rogue is hard on kits, but we turned out alright." Rumble tried to smile and lighten Tremor's burden, but he knew as soon as he did so that it wasn't enough. He pressed his nose against his brother's shoulder, before pushing the remains of his meal towards him.

"You can have the rest; you need your strength, to carry the heavy burden on your shoulders," he mewed quietly, before standing. "I'm going to make sure Minnow is okay."

He felt Tremor nod, his nose brushing his flank, before Rumble padded away.

. . .

Minnow proved to be an exceptional healer, as well as a cat of great strength, despite the self-doubt that Rumble could feel like a cloud hanging over the young she-cat. She was silent during most of the day, speaking only to answer his questions in a soft yet clipped voice. Her fear-scent was always strong, throughout every moment of the day, as if she was afraid that her so-called Clanmates would be coming to find her.

The other members of the band were wary of their new visitor; quiet Primrose did not have much to say, but Pyro, Shredder, and Griffin were all furious to have the friend of a murderer in their rank. Rumble was certain they would not stir up any trouble, but at the same time he was uneasy; Tremor was strong, but even he would have a difficult time holding off Shredder and Griffin, filled with righteous anger.

On the fourth day after her arrival, Rumble did not leave the den after tending to her wounds. He could feel her staring at him uncertainly, but he touched her flank gently with his tail.

"Soon, you will be strong enough to leave," he meowed. "The others here are not happy with your presence. They will want you to leave as soon as you can, and when you do we will probably have to move camps, in case you return to your allies and tell them of us."

"I can't go back," Minnow whispered, her fear-scent rising at the very thought, almost burning Rumble's nose.

"It's easy to say that, Minnow, but that isn't good enough. We need to know for certain that if we let you go, you can be trusted…or that you can be allowed to stay." Rumble eased his body down, lying beside her. "If you want that, you must tell us what happened."

He could feel Minnow trembling, her small vibrations streaking through the ground and into his sensitive paws.

"The rest of the rogues don't have to know, if you don't want that," Rumble meowed, "only my brother and I will know, if you so choose. You don't have to speak with us, no one will force you, but if not then you will be sent away from the safety of our group, understand?"

Minnow was silent, but Rumble had patience born of tending to fidgeting kits.

"Okay," she mumbled. "I'll tell you."

Rumble let out a quiet purr, rising to his paws. "I'll get Tremor, and then you can tell us," he meowed, leaving the den. He returned moments later with his brother, and the two of them sat facing Minnow. Rumble kept his pelt pressed against his brother's side, to make it easier for him to read his brother's reaction to whatever Minnow might say.

"I…I met Nightshade while we were running to the mountains," she murmured. "She didn't want to talk to me at first, but I didn't have anyone to talk to. I used to live in Twolegplace, but I was never happy there…it was always a struggle to survive, there wasn't time to have friends or develop a family…so I left Twolegplace and went into the forest to try and find myself that sort of family. I found Maggot instead. At first I thought it wasn't so bad, but the battles with your rogues…I'm a coward. I always fled and hid during those. I'm…I'm not a good fighter. I'm only a good hunter.

"Nightshade was injured, though, she had something stuck in her paw and it was hurting her, so she fell behind. We talked a bit, mostly me talking. That night, Blight was angry with her, because…I'm not really sure. Nightshade didn't talk about Blight much, but she had this look in her eyes, like she worshipped him…um, I went to hunt for the two of us, and caught a crow, but one of Maggot's rules is that he gets the best prey. But catching crows is hard, and I wanted it for her because she was hurt and everything, so one of his cats attacked me.

"Nightshade fought him for me. She protected me."

At this, Rumble felt Tremor stiffen with surprise. _Perhaps I was right, _Rumble reflected. _Perhaps Nightshade is a good cat…but how could a cat that defends another murder three others?_

"Blight was happy with her then, because she fought, so she could sleep with him and Maggot. I was alone…once they were asleep, some other cats came and took the crow anyway."

"We talked again the next day, because she couldn't keep up with her injured paw. And after that, we stuck together, just the two of us…we became friends. Real friends." Minnow's voice was almost choked. "She was the friend I had always wanted.

"We entered the tunnels in the mountains during our journey. I was scared, but she let me hold her tail so I knew she was there. Nightshade seemed more freaked out than I was, really, but I don't understand why. When we got out of the tunnels, we went to camp. There's a different cat there than the one Blight said would be in charge, but he and Maggot struck up a deal anyway.

"The next day, I think, Blight left together…when they came back, Nightshade looked really bad. I wanted to talk to her, but she had to be treated by their healers. Blight came up to me, and told me that he really liked how I hunted, and he thought he could teach me how to fight, too…I shouldn't have believed him, I was so stupid, but he seemed okay then, and Nightshade loved him…and he complimented me, something that no one really does, ever…." Minnow's voice trailed off.

"Minnow, if this is too much for you we can continue tomorrow," Tremor meowed. Rumble could feel Tremor's eagerness in the tension of his muscles, and knew that his brother wanted to finish the story that day, but Tremor wouldn't force the little she-cat to go under so much stress if she didn't want to.

He heard Minnow shake her head. "No, it's okay. It's just…give me a minute. Everything kind of blurs into one horrible memory…." She swallowed.

"I followed him out of camp, and we went down the mountain together. He kind of paused on this ledge, looking down over the forest, and he said something….'Isn't it beautiful?' And I said it was, and then he said that I was kind of beautiful, too…I was completely off-guard, I didn't know what to do, and then…he hit me. I remember the ground rushing up to my face and I closed my eyes, but I don't know what happened after that.

"When I woke up, it was dark, really dark, and I was terrified. I was in a den or something, somewhere, and all four walls were stone. I couldn't get out. I panicked, throwing myself against the walls, but it didn't help.

"Blight came in after some time, and he just sat there and stared at me. His eye was creepy, it was glowing, and he looked like...he looked hungry. And then…and then he asked…." She trailed off again, and Rumble could feel her tremors through his paws.

"He's not here, Minnow," Rumble said soothingly. "He can't hurt you now, okay?"

"He said…'Who is the Master?' And I was scared and confused, I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. He asked again, and I asked if he would let me out. He hit me, I think, and I remember my shoulder hitting the stone floor…he asked again, and I pleaded with him to let me go, promised I wouldn't tell anyone. Then, he hit me again, but this time he didn't stop, he just kept…." Minnow took a deep, trembling breath. "When he finished, he left, and I must have blacked out.

"It continued for days and days…by the second day, I figured out that he wanted me to say that he was the Master…but I couldn't, I couldn't do it. At that moment, I realized how evil, how twisted he was, and I just couldn't subject myself to that…and then I realized something else, that this was what must have happened to Nightshade, making her the way she was. And I thought of her, worshipping him and being unable to stop herself from hurting those she cared about…and I knew I'd rather die than become her. I love Nightshade, I do, but…she's just so broken inside.

"He didn't give me food or water, only beatings when I wouldn't submit. He mentioned that I held out longer than Nightshade had, but I was too delirious to care. I didn't know what was going on; I didn't know if Nightshade knew, if she had been in on everything. I didn't know if she had tried to resist too, for awhile, and had simply been unable to. All I knew was that even if I gave in, there would be more from me that he wanted, because whatever he had done to Nightshade was more than making her submit to him.

"And then, one day, Nightshade appeared, pushing the boulder away. I thought I was dreaming, or hallucinating, at first…I thought I might be dead. But she was talking and she was scared and I knew she hadn't known where I had been. She tried to get me to just give in to him, so I would be okay, but I couldn't.

"Nightshade wouldn't leave me there. She couldn't, knowing I wouldn't give in and would die. She went to find me some prey, and then said that she would help me escape. I could barely stand, but she supported me, and led me to the forest. I tried to convince her to come with me, to get away from Blight, but she said she loved him…I don't understand how she could love a monster like that. But…I guess she doesn't have a choice.

"She called for you, you know, and then she turned to leave. I knew I couldn't convince her to stay. But as she was going, she said something strange…she said a long time ago, she was known as Belladonna…I think that was her old name, before Blight changed her. And then you all found me, and…." Minnow trailed off.

Rumble and Tremor were reeling from horror and shock.

_Another cat…a tom, one who is supposed to defend those weaker than him…how could he do that? To anyone? To Nightshade…or Belladonna? _

"Minnow, this…if it's true, it's…." Tremor was struggling to find the words to describe her appalling story. "Minnow, you can stay with us, for however long you like.

Rumble's heart was pounding in his ears. _Blight…I knew he was bad, but this…this is monstrous, beastly. This is the cruelty you would expect from Twolegs, or badgers, not another cat. Blight is evil, and any cat that he is working for must be evil as well. We have to stop them…we can't let this continue._

"Tremor," he said softly, but he could almost feel that Tremor was thinking the same thing.

"This alliance that Maggot made, what was it for?" Tremor asked. "Who are they trying to fight?"

"There's some cat…everyone in their camp was talking about her. A silver tabby, named Silverstreak…she ran away during the battles between the Clans, to try and start her own and stand against one of their old leaders. Lion – the cat who leads TalonClan – blames her father for his family's death and has sworn to kill her."

"We have to help them, then, Silverstreak and the others," Rumble meowed. "This cannot be allowed to continue. Anyone against them must be good…."

Tremor nodded. "We must. Hiding in our forest won't do us any good…but Nightshade…."

"What about Nightshade?" Minnow asked. "Why does she know you? Why did you follow her here? Why does everyone hate her?"

Rumble felt Tremor turn towards him; out of the surviving cats, Rumble was the one who had known Nightshade best.

"Nightshade and Blight joined us, saying they were just two rogues and that Nightshade was with kits," Rumble said quietly. "We allowed them to join us. I could see how controlling Blight was too, how he hurt her in their so-called training sessions. But, like you, I couldn't make her see the truth. He has too much of a hold over her. Something was happening between one of our rogues and Blight; I warned the she-cat, Swansong, against it, but she wouldn't listen to me either. Nightshade found out." He let out a quiet sigh.

"Nightshade flew into a frenzy, killing Swansong. But…she's dangerously unhinged, uncontrollable. Whatever Blight did to her rid her of the ability to stop herself. She killed two other rogues, Phoenix and Scorpion. Phoenix was Nightshade's friend, and also Griffin's sister. Scorpion was Shredder's friend. Nightshade and Blight fled to Maggot's group. Griffin and Shredder, as well as Swansong's two adopted kits and friend wanted revenge, so we followed her here."

He could smell Minnow's fear, and he heard the disbelief in her voice as she mewed, "Nightshade did that? She killed…? She said bad things always happened to her friends, but I didn't know…."

"When I spoke with Nightshade, I could tell that she was a good cat. It was only where Blight was concerned, that she became uncontrollable and irrational. He truly has her under his paw. I'm not sure if she can ever come out of that…although she did tell you her true name. That's progress."

_Nightshade must just be a name that Blight created for her, to make her his, _Rumble thought. _Well, I won't use it. Nightshade is not who she is. Belladonna is who she once was._

"I…I thought I was her friend…."

"The cat who saved you from Blight, who was your friend…that was the real Belladonna. The cat who defended Blight and stayed with him was just what Blight had molded her into being. Belladonna cared for you, Minnow, enough to save you from the cat she loved."

Minnow swallowed, but did not speak again.

"I must tell the others that we are moving," Tremor growled.

"They won't want to give up, when we're so close to Nigh—Belladonna."

Tremor nodded. "I know. And they won't understand, not until they know the truth." He turned to Minnow. "I know my brother said we would keep your story between us, but the rest of my rogues need to know what it is we're going to be fighting for. Do I have permission to share your story?"

Minnow hesitated. Then, she sighed softly. "I want to help Nightshade, or Belladonna, or whoever she is any way that I can. If we can kill Blight, then I'll do anything."

Tremor nodded, rising to his paws. "I'll tell them now. Rumble, stay with her."

He left the den, and Rumble moved to lie beside Minnow. He pressed his pelt against hers, easing her trembling.

"You're safe here," he said softly. "We're going to help these other cats win, so Blight can never hurt anyone else. Okay?"

He felt Minnow nod, her nose brushing against his shoulder. "What about Belladonna?" she asked. "What can we do for her?"

Rumble was quiet for a moment. "Honestly, I don't know," he meowed. "Perhaps she can be saved, or perhaps she is too far gone. We won't know until we try…but I'm not giving up on her, Minnow. Neither should you."

**. N O R T H S T A R .**

"Wake up! Wake up! Come on, Northstar, we've got to train! Wake up!"

He felt a paw poking his muzzle, and he let out a low growl. "Rabbitpaw, I swear to StarClan if you don't—"

_Rabbitpaw?_

He opened his eyes, blinking to find Rabbitpaw staring down at him, her blue-green eyes glittering. He frowned, puzzled, before remembering that he was in the medicine den.

"You're awake!" Rabbitpaw chirped, taking a step back to allow Northstar to sit up. He yawned, feeling weary; the night before he had stayed up to wait for Stonestar and ask how the meeting with the rogues had gone. It seemed they had an alliance, but Silverstreak was overstepping her boundaries, as always.

"Good morning, Northstar," Blackmoon meowed without turning around, sorting through his herbs. "Afternoon, I should say."

Northstar glanced towards the entrance of the den, noting that the sun was almost at its peak. _I suppose I slept longer than I had intended._

He stretched, letting out a quiet hiss as the movement send a spike of pain through his shoulder. _Silverstreak did a number on me. Riling her up like that might not have been wise..but it was satisfying. We need more of that side of her if we're going to defeat Lion. The problem is getting there._

"Blackmoon said I had to let you sleep until sunhigh…but it's almost sunhigh now, and you're awake!" Rabbitpaw grinned. "We can go train!"

Northstar glanced at Blackmoon. "Is she ready for training? Are you certain?"

Blackmoon looked over his shoulder, blue eyes glinting with amusement. "I'm more concerned about you than her, at the moment; that shoulder needs more rest."

Northstar forced himself to his paws. "I won't spar with her today, that will have to be good enough. Give me a few poppy seeds, and we're good to go."

Blackmoon frowned at him, the amusement gone. "Seriously, Northstar, you should rest. There's no hurry."

"Of course there's no hurry, beside a homicidal tom coming here to wipe out all of PeakClan, with only a rogue Clan and untrustworthy Twolegplace cats to depend on," Northstar snapped. "No hurry at all."

Blackmoon glanced away, and Northstar's fur ruffled; he knew Blackmoon was a good cat, despite his feelings for Rosedapple. He was a strong medicine cat, well-suited to his job, and loyal to his Clan; he had captured Silverstreak, after all, even though he had known it was against StarClan's wishes.

Apologizing was beneath Northstar, however, so he only let out a quiet grunt. "The poppy seeds, if you wouldn't mind."

"Only two; three will make you drowsy," Blackmoon meowed, sliding two black seeds towards him.

"You only gave me one!" Rabbitpaw complained.

"He's a big cat, you aren't," Blackmoon meowed as he twitched his whiskers. "One practically knocked you out."

Rabbitpaw rolled her eyes, nudging Northstar playfully as he lapped up the seeds, almost causing him to choke on one. She didn't notice, purring and staring out of the den entrance with bright blue-green eyes.

"First, we need full stomachs, for energy," Northstar meowed as they padded out of the den together, with a last nod towards Blackmoon. "We'll make up for it with what we catch later."

He spotted Rosedapple, sitting in the entrance of the nursery; he could hear her mewling kits behind her.

"Would you like to join us?" he asked. Rosedapple nodded, eyes glittering as she rose to her paws. She whispered something to her kits, before padding forward. Northstar looked over at Rabbitpaw, seeing apprehension in her eyes. His golden gaze narrowed, and she flushed under her fur, embarrassed to be caught wondering at the dappled she-cat.

_I'm sure Dapplefern's still spreading rumors, _he thought, claws kneading the ground. _I'm tempted to make her have an…accident._

Rabbitpaw grabbed a small finch, and Northstar selected a plump pigeon for him and Rosedapple to share. The three of them sat down together in the corner of camp; Northstar offered Rosedapple the first bite. She chewed, letting out a quiet purr, and he smiled; it was good to see her being happy and with her Clanmates.

Rabbitpaw was still watching Rosedapple uneasily as the three of them ate; Northstar hastened to break the ice.

"How are your kits, Rosedapple?"

Her eyes grew slightly misty. "Big, happy, playful, curious. Like normal kits, at their age. They're a little over a moon old now, did you know that? I guess I lost track of time…Birdkit's a real sweetie, and Brackenkit is still smarting from his defeat at the paws of BirchClan. Puddlekit and Streamkit are getting big too, but I think they're a bit scared of Brackenkit, since he's so much bigger…."

Northstar smiled, pleased to hear her gushing about her kits; it took him a moment to remember that Puddlekit and Streamkit had been Graywing's kits, not Rosedapple's.

"Can I, um, come see them sometime?" Rabbitpaw asked almost shyly. "I like kits."

Rosedapple blinked, looking nervous for a moment. She glanced quickly at Northstar, who simply raised an eyebrow; it wasn't his decision, they weren't his kits. Rosedapple looked down at her meal, then nodded quickly.

"Yes, that would be fine," she meowed to her prey, before looking up and blinking at Rabbitpaw. She smiled slightly. "Yes, Rabbitpaw, I'd like that."

Rabbitpaw purred quietly, and Northstar smiled to himself as he took a bite.

The three of them chatted quietly for a short time, undisturbed by the curious glances of the rest of the Clan. Finally, Northstar stood.

"Rabbitpaw and I should be going; there's not much daylight left," he said. Rosedapple nodded quickly, rising to her paws.

"It was good talking to you…it seems like the last time we spoke, you were just a little kit," Rosedapple mewed to Rabbitpaw. Rabbitpaw grinned at her.

"Then it's been too long, since I'm nearly a warrior now. Right?" she asked Northstar, and he shrugged.

"That's what I'm hoping to figure out today," he growled, flicking his tail to her and giving Rosedapple a nod of farewell. The two of them left the camp together, as Rosedapple slipped back into the nursery to comfort her mewling kits.

"Where are we going to go?" Rabbitpaw chirped behind him as they headed down the Peak together.

"Wherever we can test out your skills," Northstar meowed. He paused at the bottom of the Peak, staring over the river, before AshClan's scent reached his nose. He let out a quiet growl; PeakClan would never be allowed across their river again, thanks to the rogue Clan.

"Come on," he meowed, turning the other way and padding into the burnt forest. It was striking how different this side of the river was from the other; here large boulders were strewn almost haphazardly over the ground, lying amongst the trees and brush like they had fallen there from the heavens.

Northstar decided to test her on her knowledge of the territory; she probably knew more if it than he did, but it couldn't hurt.

"What's this rock called, up ahead?" he asked, flicking his tail towards a large triangular-shaped rock above them.

"Badger Claw Rock," Rabbitpaw said immediately. "Fawncloud used to tell us stories about it when we were kits, about how StarClan fought a giant badger and one of the badger's claws fell off and landed there."

Northstar blinked; when he had been young, there was no such thing as stories for kits, or at least he hadn't heard any. His father was too busy to spin silly yarns, and his foster mother hadn't been the type.

"I see," he said slowly, and they continued deeper into the forest.

"Where would we go from here, if we wanted to find a lot of prey?" Northstar asked, coming to a stop; there were two paths clearly beaten into the forest.

"Um…to the left is a small stream, and in newleaf little fish live there. To the right is an old, dried up brook, with the Fox Teeth stones. There's usually a lot of prey there in leafbare." She cocked her head to one side. "We're right in the middle of both seasons, but I'd go to Fox Teeth because the little fish in the stream aren't big enough to eat yet."

Northstar nodded, pleased with her explanation. "Good, to the right then," he meowed, and the two of them headed down the beaten trail.

The Fox Teeth rocks were huge slabs of white, rectangular rocks that had piled atop one another alongside a dried creek bed. They didn't really look like fox teeth, but Northstar guessed they had some sort of legend for that as well.

"Alright," he meowed, wincing slightly as he sat down and curled his tail around his jet black paws. "Go on, then. Catch something."

Rabbitpaw cocked her head to one side. "Right now? This is my first time out of the den!"

Northstar shrugged. "I'm not going to make excuses for you. You either catch something, or you don't. We don't have much time, so hurry."

Rabbitpaw pouted. "If I can't catch anything, will you be mad at me?"

Northstar smiled. "Most definitely."

Rabbitpaw rolled her eyes at him, but crouched as she opened her mouth to check for scents. Northstar did as well, pinpointed all the nearby prey; there was a squirrel in a tree nearby, a mouse – very young, from the noises he was making – as well as a water vole poking around the dried up bed, although with his brown fur he wasn't visible. Northstar waited to see which she would choose. The squirrels were the closest, but if she could get to the vole first it would be the easiest kill.

To his surprise, she slipped into a crouch clearly made for hunting mice. He blinked, then watched as she crept forward, intent on her prey; the young mouse continued doing whatever it was mice did, unaware that death was growing ever nearer.

Suddenly, Rabbitpaw sprang, slower than Northstar would have expected. She landed gingerly, and he thought he saw a wince of pain flash over her face before she bit down on the fleeing mouse. It let out a loud squeak, and Northstar sighed as both the squirrel and vole disappeared.

Rabbitpaw trotted back to Northstar, dropping the mouse at his paws and beaming with pride.

"Why didn't you go for either of the others? Why the mouse?" Northstar asked. "The squirrels were closer, but the vole would also have been an easy catch."

"Well, I can't climb trees very well," Rabbitpaw reminded him, wiggling her stubby tail. "Remember, 'a good tail on a cat keeps you from going splat!'"

Northstar decided to ignore her wise platitude, but nodded. "And the vole…?"

"Well…the mouse was a bit harder, and I wanted to impress you. Because this is our first time out together and I'm kinda stiff…and I wanted to make sure you knew I was up to it." She flushed under her fur, and a touch of seriousness came into her eyes. "I really want to be a warrior, Northstar. I want to help my Clan."

Northstar smiled. "Good. It was a good catch; did it hurt your legs?"

Rabbitpaw glanced down at her paws, as if surveying the damage. "Yeah, a bit," she admitted, "but it's nothing. Blackmoon said I was good to go, and that's enough for me."

Northstar flicked his tail. "Don't bury the mouse, take it with you," he ordered, trotting into the forest. He heard Rabbitpaw following close behind. He led the way through the burnt forest without pausing, until he came to the small clearing where he and Rosedapple had spoken before the storm.

"Are we going to test my fighting skills too?" Rabbitpaw asked, and Northstar nodded.

"We'll take it easy – Blackmoon won't be happy if he has to treat new wounds, and he wants us to take it easy – but I need to see how much Dapplefern has taught you. Fighting is my forte."

Rabbitpaw grinned, bouncing eagerly on her paws and tossing her mouse to the side. "Awesome! I bet you know all sorts of cool moves!"

Northstar nodded, then crouched, ignoring the pain from his shoulder. "Attack me."

Rabbitpaw dashed forward, obviously going as quickly as she could, but her shoulder was slowing her down. She tried to trick him by feinting to the left, but the slowness of her motions allowed him to predict her movements easily. He met her with a blow to the shoulder, sending her tumbling to the ground. She didn't get up, and Northstar felt a prickle of worry, padding forward.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Rabbitpaw remained motionless, until he reached out with one paw to jostle her shoulder. One blue-green eye shot open, and she sprang to her paws, trying to strike him. He managed to block her by turning to the side; she was tiny compared to him, and hitting a solid wall of muscle sent her flying back to the ground.

"Nice trick," he meowed, taking a step back and allowing her to rise to her paws. "If you were faster, you would have had me."

Rabbitpaw's eyes sparkled as she sat back up, then winced as she licked her chest. "That felt like running into a stone wall," she complained. Northstar rolled his eyes.

"As if you know what that feels like."

Rabbitpaw blushed, and Northstar wondered if, at some point in her kithood, she really had ran full-force into a wall. It wouldn't surprise him.

"Again," he ordered, but she was already running towards him. This time, he simply moved to the side.

"If your legs weren't hurting you, you'd definitely be fast, but you don't have much control," he meowed as she spun around to face him. "Your enemy isn't going to sit and stare as you run at him; he's going to either block or evade, and if you can't control yourself then you're the one who will end up getting hurt."

"Oookay, so what should I do?" Rabbitpaw asked, cocking her head to one side.

"Use your injury to your advantage, instead of viewing it as a handicap," Northstar suggested. "It slows you down, which for the moment is good; when you're slower, you can control yourself. You can practice that control now, and as your legs recover and you begin to become faster, you'll be improving your control as well."

"Okay," Rabbitpaw said again. "So, do I attack you again?"

"Yes, and this time make sure to be deliberate about where you're attacking, and your options if I move," Northstar meowed. Rabbitpaw nodded, and sprang again; she was trying to feint once more, so Northstar moved to evade her, only to find that she had also changed directions.

_She learns quickly, at least, _he thought, before ducking and allowing her to fly over him. He moved to rise, knowing she was too slow to spring onto his back, a favorite (and pesky) move of apprentices.

"Better," he meowed, flicking his tail. "Now do it again, and try to actually hit me this time."

. . .

By nightfall, Rabbitpaw was exhausted, and Northstar was slightly tired as well, but he insisted they keep training, even as the moon began to show itself a sliver at a time.

"I'm tired," Rabbitpaw complaining, hitting the ground for the umpteenth time. This time, she stayed there. "Can't we start again tomorrow?"

"Don't you want to be a warrior? Attack me again," Northstar ordered. Rabbitpaw rolled onto her side to face him.

"Sure I do, but it doesn't feel like I'm making progress…and Mousepaw will wait for me, he said so, so what's the rush?"

"There's a battle coming, Rabbitpaw," Northstar growled, and Rabbitpaw rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I know, a big battle between us and some scary Lion cat. So what?"

"So, when the time comes, don't you want to face down your enemy as a warrior, rather than a mewling, helpless apprentice? Don't you want to be as well equipped as you possibly can to defend yourself and your Clan?"

"Of course," Rabbitpaw meowed. "I'd like that. But there isn't enough time."

Northstar smiled slightly. "I used to say that too, when I was an apprentice. But Brackenheart would have none of it; he was always thinking of ways to make me push myself harder, to keep training even when I was exhausted. Unfortunately, I'm not as creative as he was, but I know that you aren't to the point where you're finished. Not yet. You can push yourself much further; you've just never tried. You've never had to, in PeakClan. But AshClan is in the forest now, and Lion is coming; you don't have the luxury of being lazy now."

He leaned down, so that the two of them were almost nose-to-nose. "I'm going to make sure that by the time Lion gets here, you're going to be a warrior. You're going to be a force to be reckoned with. You're going to make those TalonClan traitors quiver in their fur. Understand?"

Rabbitpaw's eyes seemed to glow, and her exhaustion was burned away, showing only fiery determination. "Right, Northstar. I can train for a bit longer. I want to be the best warrior I can be, and you're the best mentor for that."

Then, to his surprise, she batted his muzzle with one paw, and grinned. "You didn't dodge that one."

He cuffed her ear, making sure not to do it hard enough to hurt her, before taking a step back, crouching in readiness.

"Again."

**AN: Shimmertail, I'm so happy to hear about your new kittens! I'm really glad everything went well, and completely honored that you're naming the kittens after my humble OCs. Give Momma a cuddle from me. ^^**

**It's interesting writing from the perspective of a blind cat, although frustrating. I now have a new theory: the Erins channeled all of their frustration at how hard writing for blind cats are/how crappy their stories have become into the emo lump that is Jayfeather. Yes.**


	47. C h a p t e r 46

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**46**

"_Mudder!" Shimmerpaw shouted, dashing forward. Silverstreak's eyes widened at the realization that this was the legendary Mudder, she who had abandoned Shimmerpaw in the forest. But what had happened? What had chased them and separated the two of them? What had killed her?_

_Whitefrost allowed the silver she-cat to pad forward, until she and Silverstreak were face to face. They blinked at one another, and it was almost like she was looking into a mirror, until the green-eyed she-cat bent down to lick Shimmerpaw._

"_I missed you, Shimmer," she whispered to her kit. _

"_I missed you so much," Shimmerpaw mewed, her voice muffled by her mother's fur. Shimmerpaw's mother moved to touch her daughter's head with her nose, gently. Silverstreak watched the two of them in silence._

"_You're the she-cat in my mother's memories," she mewed tonelessly. "And the one in Ashstir's."_

_She saw a flicker of movement, and turned her head slightly as the gray tabby padded forward, coming to stand beside Whitefrost. Silverstreak stiffened, feeling anger stirring inside of her._

"_My entire life…you lied to me," she said, her voice a low hiss. "My. Entire. Life. You said I was an only kit. You said you grew up with my father. You said the mountain cats were our enemies…but you were one of them!" Her blue eyes blazed. "You lied to me! Ashstir was the only one who told me the truth at all!" She turned to him. "You said they were keeping things from me. You were right. I never imagined they'd be hiding this much…."_

"_You would never have had to find out, were it not for Northstar and everything that FrozenClan did," Whitefrost meowed, her voice soft. "Everything would have be fine."_

"_Until I died, and came face-to-face with her!" Silverstreak spat. "Until we started speaking, and found out the truth between the two of us!"_

"_We've come face-to-face before," the green-eyed she-cat said softly. "Several times. Even once in battle. Don't you remember?"_

_Silverstreak glanced towards her again, seeing that the silver she-cat had raised her muzzle from Shimmer's head, and her green eyes were burning as she stared at Silverstreak. Silverstreak blinked, confused, dazzled by the stars glowing in her pelt. She tried to focus, to look into those leaf-green eyes, to see the she-cat that was more than stars and kinship…._

Cinderstream, _her mind whispered, and Silverstreak was swept away by her own memories for a moment; Cinderstream, who had once been Cinderpaw, loyal apprentice of FrozenClan. She had been one of the first to become a warrior in the new Clan, one of the first to make the entire journey from kit to apprentice to warrior. _

_She had been chosen as Crowtalon's mate._

_Silverstreak's eyes widened. "You…you're Toxin's mother," she meowed, her stomach clenching. She felt ill. "And…that means…." Her mind raced, going back through Ashstir's memories. "You're the cat he fell in love with. You're the one who arrived with a little kit…Reedrush. And you're Shimmerpaw's mother, too….Shimmerpaw's your daughter!" she exclaimed, staring at Ashstir. Shimmerpaw twisted around to blink at the gray tom, wonder in her eyes._

"_Is it true?" the little apprentice demanded. Ashstir smiled._

"_It is. You're my daughter, Shimmerpaw," he purred. Shimmerpaw gaped at him, looking up at her mother, then father, then back at Silverstreak._

_Silverstreak was still trying to puzzle it out. "So Toxin, Reedrush, Shimmerpaw…they're all my kin too. My nieces." She felt sickened, then almost happy; she had the gentleness of Reedrush flowing through her veins…and Toxin's cruelty as well. But how much of that came from her mother, and how much from her father?_

"_Reedrush…is Slaughter's daughter," Silverstreak whispered. "How can I not tell her that? How can I not tell my Clan?"_

"_Reedrush might not be," Cinderstream mewed. "Several days before Crowtalon chose me as his mate, Snakepaw and I…we were both apprentices then, confused, but we loved each other. We…Reedrush could be his daughter, for all I know. Toxin is definitely Slaughter's - she has his eyes – but Reedrush….I don't know. I don't know whose she is. It doesn't matter; my daughter grew up into a proud, strong cat…untouched by my fears. Our fears." She and Shimmerpaw exchanged glances._

"_The visions you see," Silverstreak meowed, slowly understanding. "Shadowy cats, monsters…you see them too?"_

_Shimmerpaw's ears flatten. "When we're safe, they don't…." She trailed off, struggling to find the words to describe her visions._

"_When we're with someone that we feel safe with, the shadows don't scare us. They're always there, hovering on the edges…but they can't harm us. While in FrozenClan, Snakepaw was my safety. But Crowtalon…his very presence made everything worse. You don't understand how terrifying they are unless you can see them. Part of you knows they're not real, that they can't hurt you, that you're crazy…but it doesn't make them any less terrifying. The evil in Crowtalon…I never felt safe, and the shadows were worse because of it. I couldn't do anything about it while carrying kits, but when they were finally born, I had to get away…I took Reedrush with me. I knew I couldn't leave both my kits with Crowtalon, to be raised like him. But I couldn't bring them both." Her ears flattened. "If I'd brought Toxin…."_

"_You can't know that she would be any different," Silverstreak said. Cinderstream gave a feeble shrug._

"_We'll never know now, either way. But, Silverstreak, there isn't time for idle chatter. I'm here to give you a life as well." She moved forward. "As a rogue, I took the name Faith, because I had none. I was always searching for something to make me feel safe; I could never trust anyone. Not until I met Ashstir. Having faith – in yourself, in your Clan, in StarClan – is key; only with faith can you trust your own decisions, and have complete trust in your Clanmates."_

_Their noses touched, and Silverstreak was swamped by Cinderstream's powerful, tortured memories. She saw Cinderstream grow up side by side with Snakepaw, saw their feelings slowly developing into love, until they sealed it two nights before their warrior ceremony, saw Crowtalon selecting Cinderstream as his mate the day after her vigil, saw their relationship sealed as well in the moonlight. She saw the hovering shadows in Cinderstream's conscious, felt them grow ever more powerful as Crowtalon's evil seeped into her mind, felt terror overwhelming her every night as she laid beside his dark pelt. She felt kits swelling her belly, not knowing whose they were, but knowing she would protect them with her life. She felt her love as she gazed down at them, her two perfect kits, and her certainty that she couldn't stay with the fear gripping her. She felt her knowledge that she had to do whatever she could to protect them, watched as she grabbed one kit and slipped into the night. She watched as Cinderstream roamed, all through the mountains and surrounding valleys, until she finally found a handsome tom with gentle amber eyes, one that made her felt safe, one that made her heart swell with love. And Silverstreak watched as her stomach swelled with new kits, as she felt unimaginable pain as Ashstir died, as she swore that this time she would not abandon one kit to save another. Silverstreak watched as Cinderstream struggled to raise her kits, one silver, one white, until the fear finally became too much and she was forced to flee with only one kit in her jaws. And, finally, she watched as Cinderstream entered her old home in the mountains, looking for Snakepaw, to tell him of his possible legacy, only to face a badger's paw slashing towards her face, and everything fading away as her son mewled helplessly in a tree above…._

_Silverstreak pulled away, her pelt still tingling with fear. She stared at Cinderstream, and the silver queen simply blinked back; her green eyes had almost a hollow look to them._

"_I still don't understand this," Silverstreak meowed, turning to Whitefrost. "Why did you lie to me? Why did you give your daughter away, and never tell anyone…?"_

_Whitefrost's ears flattened, and she let out a quiet sigh. "We always wanted to protect you, Silverstreak. When your father and the Clans came to the forest, there were...dark things that happened. We never wanted the new generation of warriors to know; we were afraid it would distract them from the warrior code, and their paths as warriors for their Clans, as we struggled to keep peace and balance between all of us. I never thought anything like this would happen…but we had no choice, Silverstreak. What would you have done if you had known you had a sister?"_

_Silverstreak's ears flattened. "My loyalties would have been compromised," she growled, glancing at Cinderstream. "I would have tried to protect her and my Clan at the same time. It would have been impossible. I would have been torn."_

_Whitefrost nodded. "That is why we could not tell you…and, only Fadedstar and myself knew. We told the rest of the Clan that you were the only kit to survive the kitting. There was never any reason for them to mention it. BirchClan never lied to you."_

"_So, explain it to me," Silverstreak growled. "Why did you have to give her away? How did you choose?"_

"_There's more to the story than just your birth, Silverstreak. You were only one piece of it," Whitefrost mewed. "We don't have much time before the night is over, so I'll try to be as quick as I can._

"_I was born a rogue, to Frost and Sky. When I was very young, we lived in the forest, but we often ventured into the mountains. It was where my parents felt safest, because few predators dared to walk there. It was a dangerous place, but also beautiful…you've never seen the sun rise from the mountains, watched it rush over the forest and dapple everything with light. Some rogues stayed only in the forest, and we laughed at them, knowing they couldn't see the fierce beauty our mountains held._

"_When I was about six moons old, a fire started in the forest. Almost all of the forest-dwelling rogues perished; only those that had been drawn to the mountains, like my parents, had survived. It was the middle of newleaf, and the forest did not spring back to life as yours had. The mountain cats believed it never would, so scorched was the earth. Frost took control of the mountain rogues; he said that only united could we hope to survive in the mountains without any prey from the forest. Always before, if we had been hungry we could hunt in the forest if there was no prey to be found higher up. We no longer had that luxury._

"_He did not organize them into a Clan, simply a loose group of rogues that would aid each other if necessary. And so we lived that way for roughly a moon…before the newcomers arrived. We watched as they struggled over the mountains, many perishing, and we sneered at their weakness. We didn't know who they were, only that they were fools as they flooded into the burnt forest. _

"_My father was afraid that once they saw how hopeless the forest was, they'd turn to the mountains next. He organized a patrol of rogues that attacked the forest cats. They surprised us; they were more fierce than we realized. For a time it seemed like we would fall into a war, a war we could not win. But the forest cats could not afford a war either, and so their leaders ventured into our mountains to meet with us. They claimed that all they wanted was the forest. My father did not trust them, did not understand why they wanted the ruined land, but he knew such an agreement would buy him time to make his cats stronger and more numerable, for when the war finally came._

"_We were forbidden to enter the forest after that, but some of us did anyway. I was of apprenticing age, and like the forest apprentices I was curious and mischievous. A group of young cats, with me as their leader, often ventured into the forest to spy on the strange Clans. We watched as they split apart into three different entities, taking their own pieces of the forest and surrounding land. Then, to our surprise, we saw that the forest was coming back._

"_My father was furious. He believed that the forest cats had cheated us out of the rich territory, because they obviously had experiences with fire that we lacked. He wanted to go to war, a war that would cost the lives of many cats._

"_By this time, I was older…and I had seen your father for the first time. I was alone when we met, by choice; I had snuck away from the group to find him. He was different than the rest of the forest cats, humble despite the fact that he obviously wielded power in his Clan. And we spoke, and we hunted, and we quickly fell in love._

"_My father learned of this thanks to those in my group, who had come looking for me. It had all been fun and games when we were spies, but I was consorting with the enemy. They were terrified, and my father was furious. We had an argument…you saw that. I didn't know what to do. I loved your father, but I loved my mountains and I loved my rogue-kin._

"_My mother, Sky, was in a delicate state at this time. Of my litter, I had two brothers; both were dead. One perished from sickness at a young age; the other she lost in the first raid on the forest cats. I was all she had left. My father was slowly moving away from her; he still loved her, but he was consumed with anger and feelings of betrayal from the forest cats. For him, being the leader of his followers was more important than anything else, even my mother. She was ill in her mind…she could see things that I could not, things that terrified her. Probably the same things that Cinderstream and Shimmerpaw see. I didn't want to leave her, as fragile as she was. But I had no choice._

"_Your father and I both hoped that our two groups could be united somehow, brought together peacefully. He came up with the idea that perhaps the mountain cats could become a Clan as well, a Clan in their own right, so that their mountains would be forever protected by the warrior code. I was learning the warrior code as well, and I knew I wanted to become a warrior someday. The more I learned about the Clans, the more I was intrigued…the more I watched BirchClan, the more I saw that they were not so different from us._

"_BirchClan's leader died suddenly, and your father became leader of the Clan. The two leaders of the other Clans died as well; they were old, and the journey over the mountains had taxed all of their strengths. Finally, your father was in a position to really do something about creating a Clan from the rogues. He met with the other leaders, and I went with him; he had been friends with Silverstar for a long time, and young Shadestar was also eager to help. The three of them went into the mountains with me, and I guided them to our camp, hidden away in the folds of the mountains._

"_My father was enraged when he saw I had brought them. He said that I had betrayed the rogues, as well as my family. But Fadedstar and I stood against him; I told my father that I loved him, and that Fadedstar could not leave his Clan…so I would._

"_My father grew even angrier, claiming that he wouldn't let me, but I said he could no longer stop me. And then…then I said something that not even your father knew. I said I was carrying his kits._

"_My father was stopped in his tracks. He didn't know what to do. My mother was there as well, and I could see the betrayal in her eyes. I was consumed by grief, but it was too late for me to change my actions, to reunite my family .I made my choice the day I slipped away to meet Fadedstar alone, for the first time._

"_The shock quieted my father enough that Fadedstar and the others managed to speak, trying to convince him to become a Clan as well, so that his mountains would be protected and there would be peace. I know he saw the sense in it, but his pride would not let him surrender. He demanded something in return. He said that I was no longer his daughter, his kin. He said that both he and my mother were being forced to go through pain, watching their daughter betray them. He wanted the same from me. He wanted me to know the loss of a kit._

"_I was horrified, and my mother was as well. Sky tried to reason with him, but he would have none of it. She told him that she was with kits again, but he ignored her. I could see the hatred in his eyes, and I knew that I had lost my father. But what choice did I have? If we didn't meet his demands, the forest and mountains would be engulfed in a war that no one would win. The leaders tried to talk him out of it, but I knew my father too well. He was like the mountains he loved, unmovable, uncompromising. Cold._

"_I accepted his terms; I wasn't thinking clearly, I know, I was too clouded by anger and grief. The kits swelling my belly still didn't feel real…I loved them, but the idea of me bearing kits of my own was still too far away for me to touch. I made the promise, without any idea of the pain I would feel later. And then I left the mountains, for the final time._

"_My father was good to his word. He met with the forest leaders, always in his mountains, and they showed him the warrior code. He adopted it as much for its practicality as for the agreement; if he became as strong as the Clan cats, he believed he would have a chance at beating them. But he changed his name when he became leader. He was no longer known as Frost. He became Frozenstar. His heart had solidified, had become ice…and my mother knew it. When I left her, she had no one, and like me the kits within her meant nothing until she could see them, hear their mewls. She threw herself from a cliff, killing herself and her kits. All except one."_

"_Northstar," Silverstreak whispered. "Northstar is your brother."_

_Whitefrost dipped her head. "Yes. He barely managed to survive, and was nursed by another queen. My mother was the last thing that was pulling Frozenstar away from his loyalty to the Clan; she was the last tie to his sanity. When he lost her, he was completely consumed by the need for revenge. Even my kit, when I gave her up, was not enough for him. He wanted to destroy us. He waited, plotting and planning, raising his son to follow in his paw steps. When Cinderstream fled the Clan, our agreement with the mountain cats was shattered, and he no longer needed to hold back. And…well, you know everything after that." She bowed her head. "BirchClan fell because of me…but if I hadn't made my sacrifice and chosen my side, you would never have been born. The Clans would not have survived. Lives were lost either way, and sacrifices were made, but…." She sighed softly. "Once you start down a certain path, nothing can bring you back from it."_

"_Your lineage is part of why you were so important to the Clans," Ashstir meowed. "In your blood runs the warmth of BirchClan and the ice of FrozenClan. And your lineage made it possible for me to contact you. I have guided you as well as my daughter…and I attempted to help Northstar at the very beginning of his journey, although he was not willing to listen. I can contact any cat that shares blood with my kin; you, Reedrush, Toxin, Shimmerpaw, even Northstar. And one other cat."_

_Silverstreak turned to Cinderstream. "Your son? The one you died protecting?" she asked, and Cinderstream nodded. _

"_He lives," she mewed, "although without me he has gone down a darker path than I would have liked. It's impossible for even StarClan to divine his future now."_

_Silverstreak nodded, feeling as though she was in a fog. Her family…everything about them, everything she had learned this night…she felt like a tree that had been shaken to its roots and was in danger of toppling over. _Northstar is my kin,_ she thought, _and yet he is responsible for my mother's death….

"_Northstar never knew we shared blood," Whitefrost mewed, as if sensing her thoughts. "There are few cats alive who remember where I came from, now. But Fadedstar ordered those who knew to never speak of it, never to you. He didn't want your loyalties torn between two Clans, two lives. But with both FrozenClan and BirchClan consumed…it no longer matters."_

"_Where is he?" Silverstreak asked. "My father. I've seen him before, but he isn't here. He's not with me, not telling me these things for himself. Is he hiding? Is he scared of what I might say to him?"_

"_No," a soft voice mewed. "He is merely an old tom, ashamed of his decisions." _

_She turned to see a pale tom approaching, but for once her heart didn't leap at the sight of her father._

"_I always told you that we had no secrets," Fadedstar meowed, coming to stand before her. "But you know the truth now. We can no longer hide anything from you."_

"_Do I really know everything? Or are you still keeping secrets?" Silverstreak demanded. Fadedstar smiled sadly._

"_StarClan is always keeping secrets, whether we want to or not," he meowed. "There are some rules that not even the stars can break."_

_Silverstreak took a step away from him. "You lied to me my entire life. Both of you." She glanced towards her mother._

"_We thought it was for the best," Whitefrost meowed. "Now it's too late to ever know."_

"_We did it to protect you, so that one day you could be a strong leader," Fadedstar said. "And it worked. You're a leader now, Silverstreak…or at least, you will be if you accept this last life from me."_

_Silverstreak stared into his pale blue eyes, so pale they were almost white. She closed her eyes, trying to think; her entire past felt as though it had been stripped away, exposing the lies that had followed her whole life._

Could I have been loyal to my Clan, if I had known? _She wondered. _Could I have been able to fight FrozenClan? To hate Northstar as much as I did, the one thing that gave me strength? If I had known Northstar and I had shared blood…what would I have done differently? _She realized that even she had no idea. And if she, who knew herself better than anyone, didn't know, then how could StarClan?_

They had to do what they believed was right, _she thought, _because the alternatives, the things I might have done if I'd known, were too dangerous to consider. They had no choice, no choice at all. Like my mother said, once she started on her path, there was nothing that could keep her from it.

_She opened her eyes to see them blinking at her, hopefully; she could see the shame burning in her father's gaze. He had always been a cat of truth; how much would it have pained him, to keep secrets for so many years?_

"_Okay," she said softly. "Okay. I'll accept this last life from you, Father."_

_Fadedstar smiled, stepping forward. "With this life, I give you fairness. You must never take without giving, or give without something in return; such things create imbalances that, with time, will tear your Clan apart. You must be fair and firm in your decisions, and with time your cats will follow and trust you with their lives."_

_Their noses collided, and Silverstreak was torn away by the most powerful memories of all. She heard the screech of Twolegs as they tore her territory apart, felt jagged rocks cut her paws as she climbed up the steep, unforgiving mountains, felt disappointment was over her as she saw that the forest they had hoped to find had been burnt as well, smoke still on the breeze. She heard the rustle of the last few prey animals in the brush, heard her leader's rumble as he assured his Clan that they would be alright, that this forest would be their home. She felt claws slash through her fur as a mountain cat's screech filled her ears. She saw a timid white she-cat approaching her, with eyes that looked like the new leaves above. She felt the soft touch of the she-cat's body against her own as they curled up together in a den, the moonlight glowing above them. She felt the beating of her heart as Whitefrost announced her kits, only to have his heartbeat seem to stagger as Frozenstar demanded a kit in return. She felt his unimaginable joy as she gazed at her two daughters, only to feel unimaginable pain as Whitefrost was forced to give one away. She felt the warmth of pride as she watched her daughter grow up and train to be the future deputy of her Clan, followed by the tang of sorrow as she watched her other daughter sink in FrozenClan's ranks. She heard the rattle of her breath as the forest-sickness clawed its way through her, as she tried to remain firm gazing at a huge golden tabby. She heard the rasp of her own voice as the two of them made their deal, and the sorrow as she looked over the battlefield, seeing that both the golden tabby's rogues and FrozenClan's patrol had been destroyed. She felt the life leaving her body as she choked for breath, while she heard the quiet crackle of a cat leaving camp, followed by two more…._

_Silverstreak was trembling when her father pulled away, staring at him, feeling the pain he had felt every day of his life knowing that he was lying to his daughter._

"_I forgive you," she whispered. "I forgive you."_

_Fadedstar's eyes gleamed gently, and he touched her muzzle with his tail. "Thank you."_

_He flicked his tail, and she rose to her paws, realizing that during the wave of memories she had sat down._

"_I hail you by your new name, Silverstar," he meowed. "Your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of AshClan. Defend it well; care for young and old; honor your ancestors and the traditions of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity."_

_And then, StarClan began to chant her name, sending it ringing over her ears. "Silverstar! Silverstar! Silverstar!"_

_Her heart swelled as they chanted, as the memories and emotions of every cat she had touched flew through her mind, mingling together and entwining until they were one, part of her. She felt full to the brim, vibrating with energy and new life._

_The chanting slowly died away, but Cinderstream, Ashstir, Whitefrost, and Fadedstar did not move._

"_You are leader of AshClan now," Ashstir meowed, "but there is more you need to understand. Your mission was never to rebuild BirchClan; I think you realize this, because you did not name your new Clan after the old one, as the forest Clans did when they found their new home in the realm of the mountains. Your new Clan is unique, separate; you were chosen for leadership because of your unique qualities; your trust, your love, your faith. But BirchClan was never more special to StarClan than any other. You carry FrozenClan within you; so does Reedrush and Shimmerpaw. They bring that into your Clan. Frostfeather's kits are half ShellClan, and Brightfire and Rainsplash are ShellClan warriors as well. They bring that into your Clan. And my ancestors, my mother's mother, was of MarshClan descent, and thus Reedrush is as well. Death also owes his parentage to MarshClan, in his mother's father. They bring that into your Clan. AshClan is not made up of solely BirchClan cats; StarClan wanted to preserve all four Clans, despite their flaws and imperfections, and they chose you to fulfill this task. Remember that all Clans, even PeakClan, are the same in StarClan's eyes."_

_Silverstar dipped her head. "I will."_

"_The night is nearly over; it is time for you to go," Fadedstar meowed. "Know that all of StarClan is proud of you, my daughter."_

_Silverstar smiled. "I'm proud of you too, Father," she mewed. "You were the best leader BirchClan could have hoped for." She turned to her mother. "And the best mother I could have ever asked for."_

_Whitefrost and Fadedstar's eyes clouded with emotion, and Silverstar smiled, touching their noses one last time. She saw Shimmerpaw do the same to her mother, letting out a quiet whimper._

"_I don't want to lose you again, Mudder," she mewed. Cinderstream let out a quiet, warm purr._

"_You never will, Shimmerpaw. You walk with StarClan in your dreams, and I will always be here, waiting. With your father." She turned to Ashstir, and he brushed his pelt against hers, resting his muzzle on her head before nuzzling his daughter._

"_I look forward to meeting with you, and learning more about my daughter," he meowed, and looked at Silverstar._

"_Keep her safe."_

_She dipped her head. "I will." She reached out to Shimmerpaw with her tail, and slowly the apprentice tore herself away from her family to come to stand beside her leader. Her family stared at her for a single moment, before slowly padding away and rejoining the other starry cats that had given lives to Silverstar. They sat with them, forming a semi-circle around the clearing, as the dream slowly began to melt away._

Silverstar opened her eyes, feeling the chill of the water against her fur. She raised her head, shaking the water from her muzzle, before rising to her paws. Shimmerpaw rose with her, staring up at the dull light dappling the water. The moon was sinking, and the sun was rising; the night was over.

Silverstar turned to Shimmerpaw, and smiled. "You're my niece, you know."

Shimmerpaw nodded. "You looked like Mudder. I used to only feel safe wid her. But I found you, and you were like her too. You make the shadows go 'way."

Silverstar felt her throat threaten to close, knowing that this was Shimmerpaw's way of confessing more than mere safety. She reached down, resting her muzzle on the little apprentice's head.

"As long as I'm around, I promise the shadows won't touch you again."

She looked up at the fading light, and smiled. "Come on. We need to return to the Clan…I bet Eaglestirke is pulling out his fur with worry since we haven't come back."

Shimmerpaw nodded, and the two of them padded towards the tunnel together, the roar of the waterfall battering their ears.

_Silverstar, _she thought, as she padding into the fuzzy sunlight. _Silverstar. I am Silverstar now…daughter of Whitefrost and Fadedstar, niece of Northstar, granddaughter of Frozenstar and his mate…Frost and Sky. Aunt of Toxin, Reedrush, Shimmerpaw…and Shimmerpaw's brother, whoever that is. _She blinked slowly, thinking of Frozenstar's old name. _Is that where 'frost' in my mother's name comes from? _She wondered. _In honor of the father he used to be?_

She shook her head; she would probably never know, and yet she found that she did not mind. For StarClan, whether they wanted to or not, was always keeping secrets.

**AN: I want to make this incredibly clear: None of this was to break any pairings (cough NorthxSilver cough). I couldn't outright tell you guys that it was invalid, without having this explanation, and I couldn't spoil that for you…and I'll admit, I encouraged it because I thought it was funny…and if they weren't related, they'd be a great pair. I considered the idea in original role-play because they weren't related, but in this story it was necessary for them to be kin, so I never really considered the pairing for this story. ;)**

**You guys prolly don't even remember Ashstir's brief message to Northy in the first chappy, tho, so. **


	48. C h a p t e r 47: Rabbitpaw

**AN: I'd really appreciate if you guys didn't bother me with my update schedule. If you look at the update dates, you'll usually see that I update about once a week, usually earlier than that. I've kind of got a life, so I can't write all the time. Some authors don't update as often as I do, even, so please don't ask me to hurry up, especially since it wasn't even a week between my last two chapters. Remember, this is the longest Warriors fic on the site, and it isn't even a year old. ^^;**

**Anyway, since the last chappy was all emotionally heavy, I thought we need something light and fluffy. Sorta.**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**47: Rabbitpaw**

She felt someone shift beside her, and moved to accommodate them, allowing them to leave the den. She curled up in her nest of moss with a quiet, content sigh, pushing her nose into her soft gray fur. She was only half-awake now; she could either completely wake up, or wait until sleep pulled her away again, it was her choice. But she wasn't one to remain idle.

She yawned, opening and blinking her blue-green eyes as she turned to gaze out of the den entrance. She felt comforted by the touch of her Clanmates' pelts; being in the medicine den had been very lonely, even with Northstar there for a night or two.

She sat up, and glanced around, trying to see who was still asleep and who was training. Mousepaw was already gone, but he was an early riser; he loved training with Rainwind, one of the few cats in the Clan who didn't intimidate the little dusty-gold tom.

Icepaw was still asleep, but Rabbitpaw was not at all surprised; the white apprentice was lazy, coasting through her apprenticeship with her good looks. One bat of her pretty blue eyes had most of the stern warriors melting, including her mentor. Icepaw could turn on the charm and innocence when she wanted to, but underneath she was cold and snappish; Rabbitpaw disliked her partially because she often teased Mousepaw, but also because she had the feeling that Volepaw liked her.

Rabbitpaw's blue-green eyes softened as she saw Volepaw, still asleep; his mouth was open slightly, and he was drooling into the moss.

_He's so cute, even when he's sleeping, _she thought fondly. She reached down to touch the ginger tabby with her nose and invite him to train with her, before thinking that perhaps Northstar wouldn't want a tagalong. And besides, Rabbitpaw was very tired from their first training session the night before; she didn't want to embarrass herself in front of Volepaw because she was sleep-deprived.

A loud yawn startled her, and she turned to see Hawkpaw stretching, his yellow eyes glinting at her.

"Good morning, Rabbitpaw," he purred.

"Be quiet, furball," Icepaw mewed drowsily. "Some of us are still sleeping."

"You shouldn't be, it's practically sunhigh," Hawkpaw meowed, giving his sister a playful nudge and receiving a hiss in return. He quirked a smile at Rabbitpaw. "You look tired; you got back really late last night. What were you up to?"

"Just training with Northstar," Rabbitpaw answered, then frowned at him. "How'd you know when I got back?"

She thought Hawkpaw might have flushed slightly. "I was just awake for awhile," he meowed, not meeting her gaze. She twitched her whiskers at him; Hawkpaw had been a good friend of hers for a long time, although he'd never been as close to her as she was to Volepaw. She and Volepaw were the best of friends; sometimes Rabbitpaw would daydream about the two of them being mates. Volepaw was strong, smart, funny, and always full of good ideas; Hawkpaw was all those things too, but he was a boaster, always inflating his own importance.

"You want to hunt, or something?" Hawkpaw asked. Rabbitpaw blinked, torn away from her thoughts.

"Um, Northstar probably wants to train some more," she mewed, and her stomach growled. Hawkpaw grinned.

"Want to get some prey, then? You sound hungry."

Rabbitpaw thought it over; she was supposed to eat with Northstar and Rosedapple again, probably; she knew Northstar wanted to get Rosedapple back into Clan life.

_And what better way to do that than with another apprentice? _She thought. _Hawkpaw's harmless, Rosedapple won't mind._

She bounced forward, pushing her nose into his shoulder and nearly knocking him over. "That sounds great, Fluffy," she purred, using her nickname for him when they were kits, thanks to his extra-fluffy kit fur. Hawkpaw beamed, and followed her out of the den.

Rabbitpaw glanced around the camp, wondering if Northstar was awake; she smiled at him brightly as he appeared in the medicine den. He looked surprised to see her, and padded forward; he was still limping with his injured shoulder, and Rabbitpaw was sure their training session had made the pain worse; her injured front legs both ached.

"I would have thought you'd already be up," he growled. "Usually you're bugging me in the mornings. I figured you were hunting."

Rabbitpaw rolled her eyes. "Bugging you? Me? Never!" She giggled. "I was really sleepy, I guess. Hawkpaw's gonna eat with us, is that okay?" She flicked her tail towards her brown tabby friend. Northstar's golden eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced Hawkpaw up and down; she felt him stiffen by her side, nervous.

"Fine," Northstar grunted, padding towards the fresh-kill pile. He selected a plump mouse, and headed towards the nursery.

"You eat with him?" Hawkpaw hissed nervously in her ear, and then blinked in surprise as Rosedapple emerged from the nursery and came to sit by the white tom. "And _her?"_

"Rosedapple's cool," Rabbitpaw assured him. "She's just lonely. And Northstar's her friend and I'm his apprentice, so we all eat together."

Hawkpaw looked uncertain, so she twitched her tail against his muzzle playfully. "Relax, they're not going to eat you."

Hawkpaw rolled his eyes, trying to disguise his anxiety. "Duh, Stubby-tail. I'm not scared of them!"

"Sure you aren't," she mewed, sticking out her tongue at him. "Come on, let's grab some prey." She trotted towards the fresh-kill pile, grabbing a thrush for the two of them to share, and headed for Rosedapple and Northstar. Hawkpaw trailed after her apprehensively.

She sat down beside Rosedapple, letting out a purr as she heard Rosedapple's kits.

"I didn't get to see them yesterday," she said, as she started picking the feathers off of her thrush.

"You can today," Rosedapple offered tentatively, watching Hawkpaw nervously; he seemed to be just as nervous, as he kept his eyes firmly on the thrush.

"You want to see them too?" Rabbitpaw asked Hawkpaw, startling him. He glanced up at her quickly, then back down towards the thrush.

"Um, maybe. Yeah, sure, I guess," he mumbled. Rabbitpaw frowned to herself; usually Hawkpaw was full of hot air and boasts.

_As annoying as that is, it's better than silence, _she thought. _I need to get him bragging; then he'll feel more comfortable._

"So," she said slowly. "Did you go hunting yesterday?"

"Yup."

She frowned again. "Catch anything?" she prompted.

Hawkpaw glanced up at her again. "Well…I caught a mouse. And a vole. And almost a squirrel." A slight gleam came into his yellow eyes, and she smiled; she was on the right track.

"A squirrel?" she inquired. "Those are hard to catch."

He puffed out his chest, sitting up slightly. "Yeah, well, I almost got it. I scented it in the trees, when no one else did…not even Volepaw." His eyes glittered somewhat oddly as he stared at her. "So I sprang up into the branches and chased after it. I nearly had it, too, but at the very last second it sprang away from me. I didn't want to follow, cuz the branches are so weak from the fire, and stuff. But I made up for it later, when I caught the vole."

"That's really good," she mewed encouragingly. "Prey is scarce, thanks to the forest. I'm sure everyone is proud." She exchanged glances with Northstar and Rosedapple.

"Yes, good," Rosedapple said quickly, catching Rabbitpaw's drift. "You'll be a good hunting warrior for the Clan."

Hawkpaw beamed at the two of them; Northstar remained silent, but the slight hostility he'd been holding towards the tabby tom appeared to have gone.

The four of them ate their meals with sprinkled chatter; Hawkpaw warmed up to Rosedapple quickly, telling her all sorts of exaggerated tales of his own prowess, with her quiet encouragement urging him on. Rabbitpaw cleaned the last of the thrush off of her whiskers, and stood, grinning.

"Can I play with the kits now?" she asked eagerly. Rosedapple nodded, rising to her paws.

"Let me tell them, first, they might be a little intimidated," she mewed, and peeked into the nursery. Rabbitpaw couldn't hear what the gentle queen whispered, but she could definitely hear the excited mewls of the kits.

Rosedapple let out a meow of surprise as one of the kits squeezed past her, and another darted under her stomach. Rabbitpaw let out a squeak as the two golden kits charged at her, and she allowed herself to be bowled over.

"Ah! Help! I'm being attacked!" she yowled, and the larger of the two kits growled at her fiercely.

"I'll save you, Rabbitpaw!" Hawkpaw meowed, and with one paw he scooped the large kit away, sending him rolling. He was on his paws immediately, and Hawkpaw faced him down, growling playfully.

The other kit, smaller and more of a dusty-gold, sat atop Rabbitpaw's chest and grinned. Rabbitpaw grinned back.

"Nice attack, I didn't see that coming at all," she purred, and the little kit purred back. Rabbitpaw twisted to look at Rosedapple. "What's her name?"

"Birdkit, and he's Brackenkit," Rosedapple answered; she seemed torn between pride for her kits and fear that they might get hurt. Rabbitpaw looked back at the kit, who was sitting on her like her chest was a proud perch.

"Birdkit, huh? Pretty name," Rabbitpaw meowed. "Better watch out, though; I'm almost a warrior, and Northstar's my mentor!" She pushed the kit off gently with one paw, springing to her feet. She flicked her stubby tail eagerly, daring Birdkit to try again.

She glanced to the side as Hawkpaw let out a yowl, her whiskers twitching with amusement as she saw little Brackenkit was on his back.

"Oh, everything's going black!" Hawkpaw wailed dramatically. "StarClan, I can see you! StarClan, I'm coming, oh gaaaah." He fell to the side, lying limply. Brackenkit rolled off of him, before pouncing on his side and bouncing up and down, letting out a squeaky yowl. He looked like a lion of legend, one that had just made a successful kill.

Rabbitpaw's whiskers twitched with amusement; for all Hawkpaw's bluster, he was a sweet tom. She glanced at Northstar, and saw that his golden eyes were almost gentle as he watched Brackenkit, although it looked like his mind was elsewhere. He blinked as he saw she was watching him, and his eyes regained their usual hardness. Rabbitpaw felt a twinge; it seemed like Northstar was never really happy, not even when he was around her or Rosedapple. He always looked…lonely. Haunted.

_When I become a warrior, he'll be happy, _she thought. _I'll just have to make sure that comes soon._

She felt something hit her leg, and looked down to find that Birdkit had sprang at her; the kit was too small to reach much higher than her foreleg. Rabbitpaw let out a yelp as if the blow had hurt, staggering backwards and falling to the side. Birdkit was on her in moments, sitting atop her prize with a smug smile, her blue eyes gleaming with pride.

"Please, have mercy o noble warrior," Rabbitpaw begged. Birdkit stared down at her, considering the matter. Then, the golden kit sprang off, retreating to her mother, rubbing her muzzle on Rosedapple's foreleg. Rosedapple reached down to lick her head, her blue eyes glowing with pride. Not wanting to be left out, Brackenkit abandoned his kill and demanded his mother's attention with a mewling yowl.

Rabbitpaw sat up, grinning at Hawkpaw, but he was motionless. She padded over to him, nudging his shoulder with her nose.

"Wake up, furball," she purred. Hawkpaw remained motionless, and she nudged him again.

"I rise again!" Hawkpaw yowled, nearly sending Rabbitpaw leaping out of her fur. He sprang suddenly, pinning her down, so that they were nose-to-nose with each other.

"Fear the mighty Hawkpaw!" he crowed, his yellow eyes glowing dazzlingly.

"The mighty Hawkpaw who was beaten by a kit!" Rabbitpaw purred, pushing him off of her. He pouted.

"I'm still pretty mighty."

"If you're so full of energy, Rabbitpaw, we should train," Northstar meowed. Rabbitpaw glanced at Hawkpaw, wanting to scuffle a little longer, but she nodded; she'd never get to be a warrior by playing. She turned to Rosedapple and the kits, flashing them all a smile.

"That was fun, Rosedapple, we should do it again," she purred. Rosedapple nodded, and Rabbitpaw twitched her tail over Hawkpaw's muzzle, before trotting after her mentor.

The training was brutal, just as it had been the day before, and by the time Rabbitpaw curled back up in her nest between Mousepaw and Volepaw, she was exhausted. The next day was the same, and the next, until her days seemed to blur together effortlessly; get up, eat with Northstar and Rosedapple (and sometimes another cat, usually Hawkpaw), start training, go to sleep.

She was obviously being worn down, and Northstar seemed to notice, for one morning he poked his head into the apprentice den and woke her up gently with his nose.

"Uh?" she asked groggily, her side still smarting from their rough training session the night before. Northstar blinked down at her.

"Take the day off," he said quietly, before padding away. Rabbitpaw listened to the sounds of his heavy receding paw steps, before slipping back to sleep.

. . .

When she awoke, she almost thought that the Northstar-thing had been a dream, but sure enough he wasn't in camp when she awoke around sunhigh. She yawned and stretched, hearing her muscles complain loudly; there was nothing more she'd like to do than to lounge in her den all day. Still, she technically had apprentice duties, no matter how tired she may be.

She glanced over to see that lazy Icepaw was the only one still in the den. Not wanting to be grouped with the white apprentice, she stretched again and rose to her paws, hearing her joints pop as she trotted outside.

Her stomach rumbled, but she knew by now everyone else had already eaten. She picked a small finch from the fresh-kill pile and curled up alone to eat it, wolfing the little bird down ravenously.

"Rabbitpaw," she heard a voice meow. She glanced up to see her old mentor, Dapplefern, padding forward; Volepaw was at her side. He gave Rabbitpaw a smile, and her heart seemed to melt.

"Hey, Volepaw," she purred, then blinked at Dapplefern. "Hello, Dapplefern."

Dapplefern sat down beside her. "It's been a long time since we spoke, hasn't it?" she asked, her voice as smooth as honey. Rabbitpaw smiled, and took another bite of the finch.

"Yeah, it has." She was on her guard, although she didn't display it; she knew Northstar didn't like Dapplefern very much, and in all honesty she was not overly fond of her former mentor.

"Is Northstar treating you well?" Dapplefern asked; she tried to keep her voice sweet, but there was malice glittering in her green eyes.

"Yeah," Rabbitpaw said brightly. "He's great, really good."

Dapplefern glanced her over. "Are you sure? You look a little…ruffled."

Rabbitpaw knew she probably looked like a mess, but she didn't care; Northstar was training her to be a strong warrior. She'd be like him, the best in her Clan, and maybe someday she could become a leader, too.

"Training is hard, but I have to catch up for all the time I spent healing," she mewed.

"You're all better now, though, right?" Volepaw asked. "I missed us all hunting together."

Rabbitpaw let out a purr, remembering the many hunting expeditions that all the apprentices had embarked on together. "Me too. Wanna go on one right now?" She was eager to get away from Dapplefern.

The she-cat's green eyes flashed. "I think we have a bit more to talk about, don't you?" she asked, but Rabbitpaw was already standing. Volepaw grinned.

"That sounds awesome," he purred. "I'll go get Icepaw!"

_Can't we just leave her behind? Can't it just be you and me? _Rabbitpaw wondered, letting out a quiet sigh.

"Northstar is dangerous, Rabbitpaw." Dapplefern's quiet growl took her by surprise.

"Northstar's my friend," Rabbitpaw meowed immediately.

"You think that, Rabbitpaw, I know…but you're young. You don't know who your real friends are yet." Her green eyes were gentle and imploring as she looked at her old apprentice.

"That's right," Rabbitpaw said icily. "I thought we were friends. But it was Northstar who came looking for me when I didn't come back, not you. And he has more time for me than you did; he doesn't complain when I want to train, or just stare at me when we're supposed to be battle training. He eats with me every day instead of trying to avoid me. He's my friend."

Dapplefern let out a low hiss, but Rabbitpaw ignored her, rising to her paws.

"When the time comes, you'll regret siding with him," she heard the dappled she-cat growl. "You'll see him for the traitor he is."

Rabbitpaw's ears flattened slightly, but Volepaw and Icepaw appeared in the apprentice den, and she trotted towards them, leaving Dapplefern behind.

"Ready to go?" she asked, pasting on a smile despite the worry growing in her heart. _Is Dapplefern a traitor to the Clan?_

"Definitely," Volepaw purred; Icepaw rolled her eyes and gave a little shrug.

The three of them left camp together, padding down the Peak quickly. When they reached the bottom, she realized Volepaw was watching her curiously.

"Aren't you ever scared, going down it like that?" he asked. Rabbitpaw smiled.

"No. My fall was just an accident, you know? I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, I was too angry. The Peak isn't something to fear, I guess, unless you're walking blindly."

Icepaw opened her mouth, letting the scents roll in. "There's no prey nearby…but Mousepaw and Rainwind were here." A crafty smile flitted over her muzzle, and Rabbitpaw felt a prickle of dislike; Icepaw often teased Mousepaw, and although there wasn't any real malice behind it, just boredom, she knew Mousepaw was easily hurt when others remarked upon his stutter.

"Yeah, well, Hawkpaw and Smallfire were going the other way," Rabbitpaw said. "We should ask Smallfire if he can come with us."

"Don't want your brother embarrassing you?" Icepaw laughed. Rabbitpaw frowned at her.

"No. I don't want _you _embarrassing _him,_" she growled. Icepaw's eyes widened with surprise, and Rabbitpaw looked away; what was the matter with her? She wasn't usually this prickly, and she'd never said anything to Icepaw before about her treatment of Mousepaw.

_Maybe I should have a long time ago, _she thought. _Maybe training with Northstar gives me that kind of strength, to stand up for those that can't stand up for themselves._

"Come on," she meowed, following Hawkpaw's scent. Volepaw and Icepaw trailed after her, weaving through the burnt undergrowth and scattered stones.

Hawkpaw's scent was strong, so Rabbitpaw knew he wasn't very far. Sure enough, his voice floated into her ears within moments.

"I don't get she-cats," he was saying. "I thought when you bragged a lot, they were impressed?"

Rabbitpaw stopped, flicking her stubby tail at her friends, signaling for them to stop as well. Icepaw's ears pricked, listening to her brother, and an amused gleam came into her blue eyes as she realized what he was talking about.

Smallfire purred quietly. "Sometimes they are, but not always. Leopardfoot, Volepaw's mother…she was impressed with things like that. She didn't think she was a very good warrior, so I used to give her lessons…." His voice was low, and Rabbitpaw blinked, remembering that Leopardfoot had disappeared when Volepaw was three moons old.

"She doesn't need lessons, though, she's older than me! And she's been training really hard…she's always so confident…." Hawkpaw sighed quietly.

Rabbitpaw's fur prickled uneasily, and she glanced at Icepaw and Volepaw, who were both staring at her. She felt hot under her fur, but she couldn't run away.

"Hawkpaw!" she called loudly, striding forward. "Hawkpaw, are you—oh, there you are! Look, guys, here they are!" Her voice sounded uncharacteristically loud in her own ears, and Icepaw and Volepaw quickly pushed through the brush beside her.

Hawkpaw's yellow eyes seemed about to pop out of his head, and he glanced quickly at Smallfire, who also looked uneasy.

"What were you guys talking about?" Rabbitpaw asked swiftly. "We couldn't hear."

Relief flashed over Hawkpaw's face. "Uh, just hunting techniques. I missed another squirrel, so Smallfire was going to show me how…."

Smallfire nodded quickly. "Yes."

Icepaw's eyes glittered mischievously. "Funny, I don't smell any squirrels."

"That's because…I just missed one, and scared it away," Hawkpaw fumbled.

Rabbitpaw felt unbearably awkward. "Well, er, the three of us were going to do one of our apprentice hunting patrols, like we used to. You wanna come?"

Smallfire frowned. "With the rogue Clan around? That doesn't seem like a very good idea…."

"They've stayed on their border, so far," Volepaw said. "They haven't caused any trouble…and besides, there are four of us. We'll be fine."

Smallfire and Hawkpaw exchanged glances; finally, Smallfire nodded. "Fine. We were nearly done training anyway." He flicked his tail towards his apprentice. "Go ahead, just make sure to get back here before nightfall, okay?"

Hawkpaw nodded quickly, and Smallfire headed towards the Peak, disappearing from view.

Rabbitpaw couldn't meet Hawkpaw's gaze. She glanced at Volepaw instead, seeing his eyes glittering at her. For once, they didn't give her the feelings of warmth that they had before, and she quickly glanced away.

"So, where are we going first?" Hawkpaw asked, after a brief lull.

"Our options are kind of halved now, with the rogue Clan and all," Icepaw pointed out. "Maybe we should sneak onto their territory and do some hunting!"

"That's exactly what Smallfire told us not to," Rabbitpaw said with a frown. "They might not come over on our territory, but if we go on theirs…."

"Relax," Volepaw purred to her, nudging Icepaw with his shoulder as he spoke. "It'll be fun. A real adventure, the kind we used to have."

Hawkpaw puffed his chest out. "Besides, we can handle any rogues, right? They're not even real warriors."

"You aren't _scared, _are you?" Icepaw purred sweetly. "Scared of the big bad rogue Clan?"

Rabbitpaw bristled. "Of course I'm not _scared. _I just don't think it's a very good idea, is all…besides, I bet the river is really high,"she said quickly. "I bet we can't even get over it."

"No way to know unless we try," Volepaw grinned, taking off and dashing into the undergrowth, with Icepaw on his heels. Rabbitpaw glanced at Hawkpaw, who was watching her, although he looked away quickly rather than meet her gaze.

"If they tumble in, they'll need someone to fish them out, I guess," she mewed. "Come on."

She broke into a run, with Hawkpaw crashing through the brush after the other apprentices.

She spotted them pausing by the river; it was higher than before, but by no means difficult to cross. She sighed quietly, as Volepaw turned to grin at her.

"See? Easy to cross," he purred. He jumped back, crouching.

"We can't jump—" Rabbitpaw's words were caught off as Volepaw broke into a run, leaping off of the slick stones and soaring over the river. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his handsome face smashing against the rocks, but she heard Icepaw let out a little cheer. She opened her eyes, squinting slightly just in case, and saw that Volepaw was standing on the other side triumphantly.

Icepaw quickly copied him, leaving only Hawkpaw and Rabbitpaw on PeakClan's side of the river.

Hawkpaw glanced at her. "It's just a little adventure," he meowed. "Think of the stories we can tell Rosedapple's kits, right?"

Rabbitpaw's ears flattened. "I can't jump that, my legs are still sore. And what if we run into a patrol? I might not be able to get away….I don't want to hold you guys back. I think I'll just go home and say I was tired, or something…."

Hawkpaw touched her flank with his tail. "Don't worry, Rabbitpaw. If we run into anything, I'll protect you, okay?"

Rabbitpaw blinked slowly, staring into his yellow eyes, and realized that she believed him without a hint of a doubt. She nodded, and he grinned, running and jumping over the river as well, bouncing restlessly on the opposite side as he waited for her to follow.

She hesitated, wanting to leap over, but knowing she couldn't; she hadn't tried big leaps like that, and over a raging river was the last place to start.

Instead, ears flat, she padded towards the stepping stones, making her way across carefully. Volepaw flicked his tail impatiently.

"Hurry up, Slowpaw," he meowed, his golden eyes glittering to make sure she knew he was only teasing.

"Where are we going to go?" Rabbitpaw asked, as she made it to the other side. She opened her mouth, checking for scents, but there was little in the burnt forest; it really wasn't very different from their own territory.

_Because it used to _be _our territory, _she thought.

"We should spy on their Clan!" Hawkpaw exclaimed.

Volepaw was nodding, but Icepaw frowned. "There's hardly any cover to hide in," she pointed out. "With my pelt, they'd see me coming a mile away."

_Why don't you just stay behind, then? _She thought hopefully, before realizing that she was just as much of a liability, with her white and gray coat.

"We could go to the Training Clearing?" Hawkpaw suggested.

Icepaw rolled her eyes. "The last thing I want to do is more training!"

"MossRocks?" Rabbitpaw suggested. "The fire might not have even hurt it that much…."

The apprentices all glanced at one another, then looked at Icepaw, waiting for some complaint.

"Sounds good to me," she meowed, and Volepaw grinned.

"Alright. I, Volestar, shall lead our patrol! Iceblossom, you can be my deputy. Hawkstorm, you'll be the head warrior, and Rabbit-tail…you wanna be the medicine cat?"

She wrinkled her nose at him, and sprang forward, knocking the ginger apprentice over. "Just because I hurt my legs doesn't mean I want to be a cranky old medicine cat!"

Volepaw purred with amusement, wiggling out of her grasp. "Fine. Rabbit-tail, you're our best hunter. Alright, PeakClan, let's go!"

He bounded into the charred forest, with the PeakClan apprentices streaming behind him. They followed their landmarks easily, despite the fire's damage; there was the twisted bush, the tilted boulder, the tree with a long gash down one side. This was the territory they had grown up in, patrolled, marked as their own for moons. This was their home.

She felt a wave of nostalgia pour over her; this might be the last time she'd ever set foot in this part of the territory, and it was when the forest was burnt and ugly.

_Why'd AshClan have to come here and mess everything up? _She thought sourly. _PeakClan was fine before they came along and took half our territory! We need that territory more than a bunch of rogues!_

She recognized the small stream that led to the MossRocks, and knew they were getting close.

"Slow down," she hissed to Volepaw. "If it hasn't been as badly burnt, they might be there!"

Volepaw skidded to a stop, mumbling an apology as Icepaw ran into him. He crouched, creeping forward as quietly as he could.

"Let Hawkpaw go first, he blends in best," she meowed, flicking her tail to the dark tabby tom. His yellow eyes widened in alarm, but he nodded, flattening himself to the ground and moving forward until he disappeared from view. Rabbitpaw glanced at Volepaw nervously, but he wasn't paying attention; he was whispering something in Icepaw's ears, something that made the white she-cat purr with amusement.

Hawkpaw was back in moments. "There's a little silver she-cat," he meowed quietly. "I guess she's the medicine cat, because she's carrying a bunch of herbs and gathering moss. There's a big brown tom there, too; she called him Bramblethorn. There's a third tom, a black one, but I don't think we have to worry about him. He's asleep."

Icepaw rolled her eyes. "Rogues. Honestly, what lazy lumps of fur."

"So, what are we going to do?" Rabbitpaw whispered.

"There's some prey by the black tom, I guess he was supposed to be watching it while the brown tom guards the medicine cat," Hawkpaw whispered. "We should totally steal it!"

Volepaw's eyes glowed. "Everyone would be impressed when we bring back prey from the rogues!"

Rabbitpaw could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and she grinned, swept away by their excitement. PeakClan would be proud of their skills, if they could pull this off!

"Let's do it!" she chirped, before wincing as she realized how loud her voice was. The other apprentices didn't hush her; they were looking just as exciting, white fangs gleaming as they grinned at one another, probably looking like a bunch of mad foxes.

"What's the plan?" Icepaw asked. Volepaw laughed.

"Who needs a plan? It'll be a cinch, just you watch. The silver cat will be too busy playing with her herbs and the brown one will be watching her and the black one's asleep. No problem." He turned to Hawkpaw. "Lead the way, Hawkstorm."

Hawkpaw nodded, slinking through the undergrowth once more, this time with the others on his heels. Rabbitpaw's eyes narrowed as the MossRocks came into view; she spotted the silver she-cat, whose tail was sticking out of a tunnel behind one of the boulders. Sure enough, the brown tom was keeping an eye on her, glancing around the camp every few moments, an odd look of calm in his amber eyes.

Hawkpaw flicked his tail towards the black tom, and Rabbitpaw felt a prickle of nervousness; he was asleep, but he was large, with a frame built for power despite the fact that he was a little on the skinny side.

_Hope he doesn't wake up, _she thought, a chill running down her spine. And yet, she was almost hoping that he did, for the thrill of adrenaline as the four of them raced away from the warriors would be almost unbeatable.

Hawkpaw approached first, keeping himself low to the ground. He reached out with one paw, grabbing a mouse from the little pile of prey that the two toms had collected. Slowly, carefully, he scooted backwards with the prey, before signaling for Volepaw to go forward. Volepaw copied him, snagging a vole with one claw and pulling it into his jaws before he backed away. He signaled for Icepaw to move forward.

Icepaw seemed frozen with uncertainty, now that she was staring the sleeping tom and fresh-kill right in the face.

"You first," she whispered to Rabbitpaw. "My pelt will give it away."

Rabbitpaw frowned - after all, there was plenty of white on her pelt too – but didn't see the point in arguing. As quietly as she could, she crept forward, hooking her claws into a finch. Staring straight at the black tom, she ever-so-slowly began to pull it towards her, letting out a tiny growl of triumph as she clutched it in her jaws.

One yellow eye snapped open.

Rabbitpaw sprang backwards with fright, and the black tom let out a yelp.

"Go!" Volepaw yowled, and Rabbitpaw twisted around to see that Volepaw and Icepaw were already running. She heard the brown tom let out a grunt of surprise behind her, and broke into a run as well, dashing after her friends with Hawkpaw at her side.

"Get them! They're PeakClan apprentices!" she heard the brown tom yowl. "Hurry, Darkstorm!"

She could hear them crashing through the undergrowth, and it sounded like they were just behind her. Her breath came in frenzied pants, and her veins felt as if they were on fire as adrenaline raced through them. Her eyes glowed, and she suddenly let out a peal of laughter; turning to her side she saw that Hawkpaw was grinning as well, full of the thrill of the chase.

The four apprentices weaved through the charred forest expertly, with certainty born from moons of patrolling. The rogue Clan couldn't hope to compare to even PeakClan's apprentices when it came to knowledge of the territory.

However, the rogue warriors were much larger and faster than the PeakClan apprentices had anticipated. Rabbitpaw glanced over her shoulder to see the black tom had almost caught up to her, and she gulped trying to race even faster.

Sudden pain spiked up one of her legs and she gasped, faltering, falling tail-lengths behind the others. Hawkpaw turned, hearing her noise of pain. His eyes widened, and he twisted around. Before she could react, Hawkpaw was in the air, springing towards the black tom. Darkstorm only had time to yelp, before Hawkpaw smashed into him, knocking them both over.

"Go, Rabbitpaw, go!" she heard Hawkpaw yowl. She hesitated, wanting to help, but knowing that with an injured paw she'd be of little use. She continued to run, doing her best to push herself past the pain.

All too quickly, the water rose in front of them, and Rabbitpaw's eyes widened with fear, knowing that at least one of the rogues would have made it past Hawkpaw. There was no time to stop and hop over the stepping stones. She'd have to jump the river.

Volepaw sprang into the air as his paws touched the slick rock, and Icepaw was right behind him, soaring over the width of the river with ease. Rabbitpaw felt the slick stone under her paws, and she closed her eyes, coiling her muscles. She sprang into the air with explosive force, paws outstretched, opening her eyes in time to see the ground rushing up at her.

She hit the earth and rolled for a good tail-length, uncurling with a whimper. She did a quick check, making sure she had all her limbs, only to scramble to the side as another cat sprang over the river.

He landed right beside her, and her heart leaped as she saw it was Hawkpaw.

"Hawk—" she started to exclaim, but he was shaking his head. "They're right behind us! We gotta hide!"

The four apprentices looked around wildly for a hiding place, before spotting the waterfall. As one, they darted towards it, scrambling across the slick ledge and squeezing through the narrow tunnel. Only when Rabbitpaw's paws felt the icy water did the fear leave her. She stared at her Clanmates, watching them staring at her with wide, anxious eyes.

Then, strangely, a laugh bubbled up from her stomach into her throat, spilling out of her mouth and ringing in her ears as it bounced around the cave, as her finch hit the floor with a splash. For a moment, the others just stared at her, before they burst out laughing as well, the fear and excitement giving way to hilarity and giddiness.

"Oh, you should have seen your face when his eyes opened!" Icepaw giggled. "You nearly sprang out of your fur!"

"I think he was just as scared!" Volepaw said, _mrrow_ing with amusement.

Rabbitpaw laughed under her sides ached, and she thought she would almost topple over into the water. She imagined the puzzled AshClan warriors staring over the river, wondering where their prey had gone, and it just made it seem even more funny.

It took a long time before they finally sobered up. The throbbing in Rabbitpaw's leg was getting worse, and she winced.

"Looks like it's a bit swollen," Hawkpaw observed, peering at it in the dim light. "You've probably been overworking it with your training, and then the running."

Rabbitpaw shivered, remembering how the rogue warriors had nearly caught up to her. "That was really brave, what you did. How'd you get away?"

Hawkpaw grinned, puffing out his chest. "I totally knocked the black one over, and his brown friend ran right into him, can you believe that? I scrambled away while I could. Those rogues are total pushovers!"

They all had another good laugh from that.

"Still, it was really brave," Rabbitpaw mewed. Hawkpaw's eyes suddenly took on a more serious look.

"I promised I'd protect you," he said simply. Rabbitpaw flushed, glad that he couldn't make it out in the darkness.

Volepaw bent down to pick up his vole from where he had dropped it. "You lost your mouse, didn't you?" he asked, and Hawkpaw nodded. "Well, the Clan won't be impressed…but it was worth it! Let's go," he meowed, trotting back to the tunnel, with Icepaw on his heels. Rabbitpaw watched him go, feeling a prickle of sadness; Volepaw was her best friend, but he was clearly closer to Icepaw in another way, one that she couldn't hope to imitate.

She waited until they were gone, before turning to Hawkpaw. "We heard what you were talking about, with Smallfire."

"Squirrels?"

"No. What you were really talking about."

Hawkpaw's face fell, and she guessed he was hot under his fur too. "Oh. Um, okay. Don't think you have to do anything just because you heard…I mean, everyone knows you like Volepaw."

She was blushing again. "Yeah…I do. But…that bird has kind of already flown, if you know what I mean. He and Icepaw…."

"Yeah."

There was an awkward silence for several moments, and Rabbitpaw ruffled her fur uncomfortably.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know…it didn't feel right to just pretend we didn't hear. And it was really brave, what you did."

Hawkpaw gave her a small smile. "Thanks…but we should go. Volepaw and Icepaw are probably wondering what we're doing."

She nodded, picking up her soggy finch, and following him through the tunnel and behind the waterfall. To her relief, none of the rogues were in sight.

They started climbing up the Peak together; Rabbitpaw's paw ached more with every step, and she began to regret their little adventure, as fun as it had been.

She paused as they reached the top of the Peak, staring down at the burnt forest, her pelt prickling uncomfortably. Then, her eyes widened as she saw a silver shape pick its way over the river. It was Silverstreak - or perhaps Silverstar if she'd gotten her nine lives – and she was heading for the Peak. Rabbitpaw looked at Hawkpaw, seeing the same fear in his eyes.

"Foxdung."

**AN: I also shamelessly used this chappy to fly through otherwise boring days for AshClan, so we're gonna pick up there next chappy.**

**Also, the PeakClan apprentices use different words for places than AshClan, cuz they have different names for 'em, which makes sense. C:**


	49. C h a p t e r 48

**AN: Yes, it is incredibly hard to think "Silverstar" while wanting to write "Silverstreak". Please excuse any mistakes. D:**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**48**

She glanced up at the Peak, thinking she saw a flicker of movement, but there was nothing there.

_Hopefully not a patrol setting out, _she thought. _I don't want PeakClan to flip out when they see me…I suppose announcing myself might have been better, but that's difficult without just meeting them…well, I suppose this is just as good a time as any._

She strode up the Peak, confidence in every step; she was a different cat now, with her nine lives. She knew her past now, all of it, and she knew that AshClan was bound together with ties of kinship as well as loyalty.

She'd met with Reedrush to discuss their lineage; she wasn't supposed to speak of her ceremony, of course, so instead she and Shimmerpaw agreed that Shimmerpaw had been sent a sign from StarClan explaining everything. Reedrush was overjoyed to know the fate of her mother, and to find that she had a sister, although the truth of her parentage was disturbing to her, as expected. Still, Slaughter was dead; his evil couldn't touch her now, if he even was her father, if Snake was not. Idly, she wondered what had happened to the gray tabby tom; she hadn't seen him again after she'd stopped Jag from killing him.

She had formally made Eaglestrike her deputy as well, to the joy of the Clan, and had explained to Ravenwing that her services as a mentor were no longer needed. Ravenwing was overjoyed, but not because she was freed of her mentoring of Shimmerpaw; Ravenwing was carrying Eaglestrike's kits.

Silverstar let out a quiet purr at the thought of Ravenwing, a proud mother. _Thank you, StarClan, _she thought, as she had so many times since gaining her nine lives. _Everything was for the best, in the end._

She reached the top of the Peak, and stretched a moment before padding into the burnt brush. PeakClan's camp unfolded before her; her whiskers twitched with amusement as she saw Rabbitpaw whispering something to Northstar; the white tom was glaring down at a soggy finch at the apprentice's paws.

_So, she was one of the prey thieves, _Silverstar realized. _Bramblethorn said there were three more…a white she-cat, a ginger tom, and a dark brown tom who really made a mess of things for us. If I recall correctly, two of them were Icepaw and Hawkpaw, the ones Eaglestrike sent to Stonestar with the message to meet while I was captured…but I don't recall the ginger one. The poor things will be terrified with they see me._

Silverstar had no intention of punishing the apprentices; she'd had her romps as an apprentice, including a certain embarrassing incident involving Eaglestrike, Frostfeather, and an unruly fox cub.

"Hello," she said softly, entering their camp; PeakClan seemed to freeze for a moment, watching her with open hostility. She was unruffled, glancing from face to face, trying to find Stonestar.

"What do you want?" the ginger tom she recognized as Foxclaw spat. Her lip curled slightly; he was, after all, one of the apprentices who had killed Forest's rogue friend.

"I'm here to speak with Stonestar," she said simply. "About Clan matters."

"What does a rogue know about being in a Clan?" Foxclaw growled, only to stare in surprise as Northstar rose to his paws.

"You'd be wise to pay her respect," Northstar growled. "If I'm not mistaken, she's earned her nine lives by now."

Silverstar wasn't sure who was more surprised, Foxclaw or herself, but she gave him the smallest of nods. Northstar's eyes narrowed in dislike, but he said nothing more. Rabbitpaw's eyes were huge in her head, and she was clearly resisting the urge to duck behind the white tom and hide from the supposedly vengeful leader.

"Silverstreak? Or Silverstar?" Stonestar growled, appearing in his den.

"Silverstar, now," she mewed, and heard the ripples of surprise spreading through the Clan. "StarClan has accepted me as AshClan's leader."

Stonestar nodded, flicking his tail for her to enter his den. She did so, brushing past the dark gray tom.

"What do you want, Silverstar?" he asked; for once, his tone was civil, and his yellow eyes regarded her carefully.

Silverstar almost didn't notice Sandpelt, PeakClan's small deputy, sitting in the corner. She gave him a nod and a small smile, before turning back to Stonestar.

"I'm here to discuss Gatherings," she said coolly. Stonestar's eyes widened with surprise.

"Gatherings?"

"I realize you've been the sole Clan here for some time, so you might not remember—"

"I remember what Gatherings are, thank you," Stonestar snapped. "Why do we need them?"

"We're allies now, and my Clan is a proper Clan, with a name, leader with nine lives, deputy, and medicine cat apprentice. It only makes sense for our Clans to meet peacefully."

Stonestar and Sandpelt exchanged glances. "I'm not sure how the Clan would feel about—"

"Their feelings are entirely the point," Silverstar said bluntly. "How do you expect us to work together on the battlefield, if we can't even arrange a meeting between our Clans? Our Clans need to accept the fact that they have no choice but to become allies, and this is the only way to make that happen."

"Where could we meet? There is no neutral territory. We'd either be meeting on our territory, or yours. We can't make a new piece of neutral territory without taking some from either of ours."

Silverstar frowned, considering the dilemma. "We can use AshClan territory," she said finally. "After all, it was originally PeakClan's. We don't mind giving a piece of it up for peace."

Stonestar seemed surprised, but he nodded. "That sounds like a good compromise. There's a spot downstream, where the rocks become much larger, like slabs. There's plenty of room to sit."

Silverstar nodded, remembering the area. "Yes. It would be a good place to meet." She turned to Sandpelt, expecting objections, but he nodded.

Silverstar smiled. "That was easier than I expected, I admit." She rose to her paws. "I must return to my Clan, but I thank you both for your time." She met Stonestar's somewhat bewildered gaze firmly, before slipping out of the den.

PeakClan was watching her as she stepped into the sunlight; she could see the apprentices huddled together, watching her anxiously.

_If Stonestar doesn't know what they did, then I won't tell them, _she thought. _They'll be on pins and needles for days, wondering…I remember the feeling. It was a better punishment than the truth actually coming out, I remember…much more sobering._

She headed for the camp entrance, before pausing as something touched her flank. She blinked with surprise into the anxious face of Blackmoon. He seemed nervous, as if expecting her to claw his muzzle or call him a betrayer for causing her capture nearly a moon ago. Instead, she gave him a smile.

"Yes, Blackmoon?"

"May I come with you?" he asked. Surprised, she nodded, and they padded out of camp together, heading down the Peak.

He stopped as they reached the bottom.

"Silverstar…."

She turned to glance at him. "Yes?" she asked, a note of impatience in her voice; she needed to return to her Clan. However, there was a darkness to his blue eyes as he blinked at her; this was a serious matter.

"StarClan intended for you to come here…but I disobeyed them when I helped capture you," he said. "I was only trying to protect my Clan."

She felt a tremor of her old anger at his betrayal, but it was weak. "I know, Blackmoon. You saved Forest's life; after that, I can excuse anything. It's okay, Blackmoon, don't think forgiveness is beyond me."

Blackmoon shook his head. "I was caught between the two things most important to me, my Clan and StarClan. And…I don't regret the choice I made. At the time, it was all I could do; I had to make my Clan stronger. And I'm happy with how things turned out. Silverstar, I know you will be a good leader for your Clan. You're more confident than ever before, more certain of your own judgment…and please don't think that Foxclaw's attitude reflects the beliefs of everyone. After AshClan helped us in the fire…many of us are proud to be allied with you. We're on your side. Whether through my actions or yours, PeakClan is changing…and I think it's for the better." He smiled, then touched her shoulder gently with his nose, before padding away.

Silverstar paused, unsure of what to feel. Grateful that many of PeakClan were not as against her as she'd thought? Angry that Blackmoon still did not regret his choice, even though she knew things might have played out differently if she hadn't been captured? Simply relieved that everything seemed to have worked out?

_Blackmoon's a good cat. Anyone in his position would have had trouble making choices, _she thought. _I should never have expected personal loyalty from him; he saved Forest's life for a complete stranger. What more could I ask of him?_

She turned, heading towards the river and her camp.

. . .

Forest brushed her pelt with his tail as she entered camp, and she greeted him with a warm purr, touching his muzzle with her nose.

"How did it go?" Eaglestrike asked; ever since being officially named deputy, he'd held himself with an odd stiffness; Silverstar remembered it from when he'd been named deputy of BirchClan. It would fade in a few days as he relaxed, but it was still a bit unnerving to see him this way.

"Well," she answered. "We're meeting downstream, near the rocky slabs."

She could see Ravenwing beaming from the nursery; the black queen seemed to glow now, lit from within by the joy of having kits within her. Even Eaglestrike couldn't argue now that Ravenwing had made the wrong choice.

"Share prey with me?" Forest purred. Silverstar nudged his shoulder with her nose, following him to the fresh-kill pile. They sat down together, and Silverstar gazed into his green eyes as he plucked their pigeon free of feathers, feeling a glow rising within her that seemed to go all the way into her paws.

He stopped, looking at her quizzically. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she purred, reaching forward to lick his nose. He grinned crookedly at her.

"You're in a good mood. It went well?"

Silverstar nodded. "Yes, surprisingly well." She took the first bite, a thrumming purr running through her body; even in the burnt forest, fish or Twoleg mice couldn't compare to forest fresh-kill. "We have support in PeakClan."

"You went and dragged their butts out of a fire," Forest laughed. "You should have their support."

She twitched her whiskers at him, and turned as Thistlepaw bounced into camp.

"Look what I caught!" he yowled, running into Forest's side, rolling the tom over. "Look!"

"A squirrel," Forest said, somewhat dazed. "Good job, Thistlepaw."

Thistlepaw beamed, turning as Brightfire approached.

"Your apprentice has a good head on his shoulders," the ginger tom rumbled, making Thistlepaw's grin even wider.

"I know," Forest said, matching his apprentice's grin. "He surprises me every day."

"Frostfeather's been complaining about how hungry she is, but she's too lazy to get her own food," Ravenwing called. "Why don't you bring it to her—ow!" The black she-cat yelped as Frostfeather struck her, unseen in the nursery.

"Careful, Frostfeather, those are my kits you're hitting," Eaglestrike warned. Thistlepaw bounced over to the nursery with his prized squirrel, as Brightfire went to deposit his own catches in the fresh-kill pile.

"Great cats, all of them," Forest said quietly, turning to blink at her. "You're the best, of course, but AshClan…I like it here, Silverstar, and I'm not just saying that for you."

Silverstar nuzzled him. "I'm glad you do. I'm glad you're here, with me. I'm glad you came back."

"Did you ask PeakClan about the apprentices?" Bramblethorn asked, padding towards them. Silverstar shook her head.

"I think we've all pulled our apprentice pranks," she meowed. "I'll personally go and hunt to make up for whatever prey we lost, if you like."

Bramblethorn blinked. "That's okay, Silverstar—"

She purred quietly. "It's fine, Bramblethorn. I don't want to be the type of leader who just sits in her den all day anyway." She flicked her tail to Forest. "Care to join me?"

"But of course," he grinned, rising to his paws, and the two of them left camp together.

. . .

"No, Silverstar, I understand," Forest meowed. "It's okay."

Silverstar blinked at him anxiously. "Are you sure?"

Forest touched her nose with his shoulder. "You don't want to be with kits before the battle, just in case. Really, I get it. No reason to worry. We've got all the time in the world, princess."

She leaned against him, comforted by his warmth. "I'm glad you understand."

"But of course." His breath tickled her ear, and she laughed quietly as they pulled apart.

"How much prey did we lose again?" Forest asked, frowning down at the meager amount they'd managed to catch in the marsh.

"There were four apprentices, but only three stole, and we found one piece of prey, where the apprentice dropped it as he jumped on Darkstorm," Silverstar remembered. Forest laughed.

"I still can't believe he knocked them both over. That apprentice should be named a warrior just for that, don't you think?"

She nudged him playfully. "You wish it was that easy."

His eyes took on a more serious cast. "Yeah, I do. I'd go knock over ten PeakClan warriors, if that's what it took…Silverstar, when do I get my warrior name?"

Silverstar blinked. "I…I don't know, Forest. You're loyal to the Clan, and you're working hard to learn the warrior code, I know that."

"But the others don't think I'm loyal?"

Silverstar's ears flattened. "I didn't say that."

"No. But everyone's thinking that." He sighed quietly, all of the cheer leaving him at once. She licked his ear.

"They'll figure it out, you'll see."

"I want to fight Lion as a warrior," Forest meowed. "I want to face down TalonClan with the knowledge that I've got AshClan behind me."

"You won't be the one fighting Lion, I will," Silverstar said firmly. "It's up to me."

Forest shook his head. "Sorry, we shouldn't be worrying about this. It's not really up to you, what the Clan things." He rose to his paws, grabbing a frog he'd captured, as she picked up a blackbird. "How's your training with Northstar going?"

Silverstar rolled his eyes. "Not well. He hasn't been showing up; I saw him today, and he looked tired. I think he's been training his apprentice."

"Are you going back tonight?" Forest asked, his voice muffled slightly from the frog.

"Probably," she admitted. "I do want to train, even though he infuriates me."

Forest grinned at her. "You know what you could be doing…."

She nudged him with her shoulder. "I thought we just talked about this?" she asked, but she was smiling.

"You can't blame me for trying, princess, pretty as you are…."

. . .

She sat at the river, shivering as a cool breeze penetrated her thick fur. She drew her shoulders closer together, wrapping her tail around her paws, trying to see if anyone was coming.

She swallowed nervously as a ghostly white figure appeared in the darkness, crossing the river with ease.

"Northstar," she said quietly.

"Silverstar," he said, his voice a low growl. "My apologies for not being here; my apprentice and I have been training rigorously."

"Rabbitpaw, correct? The one that Toxin captured?"

Northstar's fur bristled at the mention of the icy-eyed she-cat. "Yes."

Silverstar was irritated that he hadn't thought to tell her he wasn't coming for so many nights in a row, but perhaps that was simply part of his plan to keep her angry, to tap her true fighting skills.

"She's one of the apprentices that stole our prey."

Northstar glanced at her, his golden eyes bright in the darkness. "I know. She gave me a hurried confession when she saw you approaching."

Silverstar let out an amused purr; that was the flicker of movement that she had seen. "Did you tell Stonestar?"

"Such apprentice foolishness is beneath his notice. Come on." He strode forward, his white coat standing out from the dark brush. She followed him quickly, and they entered the Moss Clearing together.

"So, are you going to talk about killing my family again?" she asked calmly. Northstar shook his head.

"I just wanted to see if you actually had any fighting spirit in you," he meowed. "And you proved that you did. But that won't do you any good against Lion; he hasn't done anything to you. And, when angry, you completely lack control. You're reckless and heedless of your own safety…and even when you're at your angriest, you can't take that final step to secure victory. You couldn't kill me, your most hated enemy, even when you believed that your rogue kit's life was in danger. Lion hasn't caused you any sort of harm; he's only trying to kill you for revenge, something you sympathize with because of my actions towards you. Anger alone will not push you to victory, with nine lives or without."

Silverstar regarded him for a moment; she had to admit that his words did make an irritating sort of sense. "So, what are we going to do?"

"We need to figure out how to get you to fight without inspiring anger or rage," Northstar said simply. "I'm very doubtful as to how easy this will be, but we must try."

Silverstar nodded. "I want to defend our Clan as best I can."

"If that was true, I wouldn't have to train you."

Her eyes narrowed at the insult, but Northstar's face was emotionless.

"Attack me," he growled. She crouched, then sprang forward, feinting to the left before striking to the right. He was there to meet her, blocking her with his uninjured shoulder and twisting to pin her with one paw. He almost looked bored.

"Congratulations," he meowed, moving his claws to her throat. "I, Lion, just took one of your lives. And while your body is healing, I decided to take another, because there's nothing here to stop me. And then another, and another, until your nine lives have proven to be utterly useless, because I've just taken all of them." His golden eyes bored into hers. "And now that you're dead, well, I suppose I'll just trot on over to Frostfeather. She's a much better fighter than you, she's got power and control. She hurt me a bit, but remember, I took down TalonClan's nine finest. I killed her too."

Silverstar growled. "Let me up."

He didn't move. "Now, I move on to Ravenwing. She's not a very good fighter at all, is she? She should have stayed a medicine cat, because all she can fight is a mouse. I kill her without even getting a scratch on me."

Silverstar thrashed underneath him. "Let me go!"

"And now, there's only one cat remaining, isn't there? Eaglestrike, your loyal deputy…the hero that failed to save BirchClan, but managed to get away with his own life to fight another day. He's a fierce one, most definitely…but in the end, even heroes can be killed, because he's not running away this time. Now I'm bleeding, but by no means beaten."

Silverstar hissed at him. "Northstar! Let me go this instant!"

His golden eyes were still emotionless. "But…there's still one cat. The cat who led the opposite side, the patrol that killed my family, right? And that cat is, incidentally, your ally. So I have to take care of him as well, now don't I? And we face off, and have a monumental battle. I'm giving it everything I have, not holding back, because I know when he dies I'll have to take his remaining lives swiftly. But, he falls, he dies…and he doesn't come back. And do you know why, Silverstar?" His golden eyes were burning like furious twin flames now. "StarClan never gave me my nine lives."

She gaped at him, and he nodded. "That is why FrozenClan fell to my traitorous deputy. That is why Lion is in power now. Because I never received nine lives. And that is why you _must _succeed, Silverstar…because if you fall, there is no one there to pick up your slack. I only have one life with which to fight Lion, and I can honestly say I am the best fighter in either of our Clans. If you fall, I fall. And if I fall, AshClan falls, and PeakClan as well, and Lion wins. You cannot fail."

She gaped at him. "You don't…?"

"This is our little secret, Silverstar. Tell anyone, and I'll slice your muzzle off, that much I can promise you. It probably won't matter, when Lion comes and you're as helpless as a newborn kitten compared to him…but it's not a secret that I want to come out."

He stepped back, but she did not rise simply staring at him. _Forest and I were right…he really doesn't have his nine lives. There was a chance that we could have killed him. That's why he didn't participate in most of the battles…he couldn't risk the chance of dying….And if I can't beat Lion, then everyone truly is lost…._

She stared at him, trying to think of him as Northwind, not Northstar, but she couldn't; he was so powerful, so large, so immovable and undeniable…he had power that could only come from StarClan.

_But he doesn't. He's as mortal as any of us. I…I have more power than he does. He's a master of this façade, to have had it work for so long, but I truly have the power of StarClan behind me._

Slowly, she rose to her paws, and Northstar smiled. "I can see it now," he said softly. "There is the power. Do you feel it, Silverstar? This is what you are supposed to be. You are a leader, not a mewling kit. You are here to defend your Clan until your last breath. You are here to protect your Clan, no matter the cost to yourself, physically, mentally, or emotionally. Those aren't important, compared to your duty. This is the burden and blessing of being a leader." His eyes glittered at her, and for the first time she saw how a cat like Northstar had managed to claw his way to the top.

_It wasn't just brute strength. It was this _power, _this finesse, this inner belief that he couldn't be taken down. It was his way of all or nothing, refusing to back down no matter what happened. A cat like Northstar has no choice but to succeed._

_Until he lost everything when Crowtalon took over, and came here, a broken shell of his former glory…but he's been rebuilt, by PeakClan of all things. Northstar isn't the cat I grew up fearing. He's something greater than that now. He's my kin, my ally, no longer my enemy._

She moved forward, and he tensed, ready for her attack, but this time she touched his shoulder with her nose.

"Thank you," she meowed, and he stared at her, complete surprise on his face. Then, she smiled, icy eyes narrowing, and suddenly struck faster than an adder, slicing his muzzle.

"Northstar, I thought I had to be prepared if Lion tried to throw me off guard?" she asked innocently. Northstar stared at her, reaching up with one paw to touch his bloody muzzle as if he couldn't believe it. Then, a grin spread over his own muzzle, and he crouched, preparing for the battle of his life.

"Let us begin."

They sprang at each other, and the sound was like that of two boulders colliding, a clap of thunder that felt as though it should have spread over the entire forest. They broke apart, both bleeding, both full of energy as they sprang again, colliding, breaking apart, over and over. Their battle began to shift slowly, becoming almost a perfectly choreographed dance, both of them leaping, diving, twisting, but failing to lay a claw on the other. Silverstar's heart was pounding like never before; for the first time, she felt it, the power that a leader held, the duty that rested on her shoulders and her shoulders alone.

_I'm protecting my Clan. AshClan. I'm bringing the forest Clans and mountain Clan together under me, uniting them into a force unlike anything seen before. I will fight for them until the last breath. I will not fail!_

Northstar had been training endlessly for many nights now, and she could see the toll it was taking on him as he moved, just slightly too heavily, just slightly too slowly, just slightly favoring his uninjured shoulder over the other. And she had been sleeping soundly, hunting with her Clanmates and watching as her Clan carved its life out of the burnt forest, storing up her energy for exactly this moment.

Her icy eyes narrowed as she saw it, the tiniest breach in his defense, the exact wrong step he took, leaning too heavily on his injured shoulder. And his eyes widened as he saw his mistake, but it was too late, she was already in the air leaping towards him, paws outstretched. And they collided for the last time, her leap knocking him over, with her sitting on his chest grinning as her claws pricked his white throat.

"I win."

Northstar stared up at her, and she couldn't read his gaze. Then, he gaze her the smallest of nods, and she slipped off of him as the powerful tom made his way to his paws.

"Control, power, together…." He surprised her by smiling. "You're not a helpless kit, Silverstar. If you can channel that same power when you face down Lion, we might actually have a chance."

"I've just learned to fight for my Clan, is all," she mewed. "And make no mistake, I will when the time comes. Thank you, Northstar."

They stared at each other for a moment, and Silverstar considered, for the briefest moment, telling him everything; his connection to her mother, Toxin, Reedrush, Shimmerpaw…but there was no need. Northstar had already changed without that knowledge; it wasn't necessary. He knew all he needed to know.

"Are we finished here?" she asked, and he nodded slowly.

"I believe we are." He shook his white coat, sending droplets of blood mixed with dust flying. "I suppose I'll see you next on the battlefield."

"We've got a Gathering, before that," she reminded him. He frowned at her, and she wondered if Stonestar had told his Clan yet, but it wasn't important.

"Goodnight, Northstar," she said quietly, before she padded away, slipping into her burt forest, her home.

Her mind was abuzz as she walked, and her body still seemed to thrum with the remnants of StarClan's power, the thrill of battle, and she could feel her heart beating in her chest as if singing. _We have a chance! _She thought, and she felt as though, had she been a bird, she could have burst into song. _We have a chance!_

The thrill was suddenly cut short as she heard a low voice whisper above her, a voice that she remembered all too well.

"Well now Silverstreak, that was a much more interesting battle than the last I watched."

She looked up, bristling, as icy blue eyes gazed down at her. Toxin slid forward along the branch, as it creaked slightly under her weight.

Silverstar let out a hiss; Toxin was her niece, but that didn't matter. As Northstar had said, she had to put her own feelings aside to protect her Clan, and Toxin was more of a menace than anything in the forest.

"Come down here and face me, and our battle will be interesting as well," she spat.

Toxin gave her a small, amused smile. "I think you have the idea of my visit completely wrong, Silverstreak." She sprang down from the branch, and it was again like looking into a puddle and seeing her own reflection as she stared at the silver she-cat.

"You see, Silverstreak," Toxin said slowly, surveying her claws on one paw almost as if she was bored, "I'm actually here to help you."

**AN: Remember, Silver never saw Snake's body, so she doesn't know he's dead, or that he misused his second chance at life and helped Toxin.**

**God, they would have made an amazing couple, Silver and Northy. Fire and ice there, baby, the perfect storm. Not that I don't adore Silver and Forest, of course, there's just something so yummy about complete opposites…mmm. Maybe next time.**

**I'm currently on Spring Break (I don't think I mentioned this?) which is why these updates are all coming along so quickly. I've got oodles of time, good music, and my muse is writing faster than I can keep up.**


	50. C h a p t e r 49: Northstar

**AN: I hate reading on computer screens too, Smokefrost, so I feel your pain. I am astonished, however, that you would read 49 chapters of a fic that your ****"****beginning****"**** to enjoy. I****'****d have given up a long time ago. xD**

**Also, Shimmertail, did you really write a NorthxSilver one-shot? Do want to read! .**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**49: Northstar**

There was a spring in his step as he headed towards the Peak, despite the worsening of the soreness in his shoulder; he'd just have Blackmoon look at it when he returned.

Finally, _finally, _Silverstar had shown the spark of a worthy leader. And, she had forgiven him, although he didn't care so much about that.

He entered camp, glancing around quickly, glad that none of the other warriors were awake to see the odd glittering of his eyes. He ducked into the warrior den, curling up in his nest. Silverstar's burning blue eyes rose into his mind, and he smiled; finally, they had a real chance.

He awoke to a tug on his whiskers. His eyes opened immediately, but he didn't bother with a warning growl as he blinked into Rabbitpaw's blue-green eyes. She grinned at him.

"I was wondering if you were ever gonna wake up," she purred. "It's already sunhigh, you know! Way past sleeping time!" She cocked her head to one side. "Have fun with Silverstar last night?"

Her eyes were glowing devilishly, and this time Northstar felt a warning growl was appropriate. Rabbitpaw wasn't scared, and for some reason this irritated him.

_I haven__'__t gone as soft as Silverstar, have I? _he wondered, the thought popping out, accompanied quickly by the memory of her claws against his throat. _Perhaps that__'__s not the best comparison anymore._

"We had a lot to do last night, training-wise," he answered, stretching slowly and wincing slightly as he felt the familiar tug of pain from his shoulder "However, I think our training sessions are over now."

Rabbitpaw grinned. "More time for training with me then, right? Just the two of us?"

Her eyes glittered with admiration, and for a moment, he was warmed by it; it felt good, to be respected, even admired again. It had been a long time since he'd had that deeply felt devotion from another cat.

"Yes," he answered, and Rabbitpaw let out a happy chirp.

"I'll get our prey, and we can eat with Rosedapple!" she purred, bounding away with inexhaustible energy. Northstar smiled, then blinked, realizing that for some reason, he was in a better mood than normal.

_The burden's been lifted from your shoulders, _he thought. _Silverstar actually has a chance now, thanks to you. Of course, she probably couldn't have beaten you if you were at your full strength…which Lion will be…but you've planted the seed of belief in her mind, and shown her the power that remains untapped. The responsibility for victory is no longer yours. For once…you aren't alone in this battle. You have…true allies._

He stared ahead of himself thoughtfully; he wasn't sure how he felt about it, having allies. Could he really count on Silverstar? She'd always been fickle before, weak, and yet the electricity between them during their battle…it was hard to believe that it could fade away.

He heaved himself to his paws, realizing that he was keeping Rabbitpaw waiting; ignoring the dull ache in his shoulder, he padded over to the nursery, lying down next to Rosedapple. She smiled at him, but her blue eyes seemed oddly clouded for a moment, before she blinked the clouds away.

"You haven't eaten yet? It's a little late," he rumbled. Rosedapple shrugged.

"Fawncloud and I shared a little meal together this morning, but I'm still a little hungry," she answered. Northstar blinked in surprise; it was the first time – to his knowledge, anyway – that Rosedapple had shared a meal with anyone besides himself or Rabbitpaw, alone.

"Did that go alright?" Northstar asked. Rosedapple nodded, glancing at Rabbitpaw.

"I learned a few…interesting things about you and your brother," she purred to the apprentice. Idly, Northstar wondered if the "interesting things" included anything about Rabbitpaw running into walls.

"Here," Rabbitpaw meowed, shoving a rabbit towards him, as she nibbled on a little bird of her own. Northstar took the first bite, offering the second to Rosedapple, but she shook her head at him.

Rabbitpaw ate her food like a ravenous fox, and it was apparent that she was bored, her gaze straying to the camp entrance multiple times; she wanted to continue her training. Northstar was ready to nudge the last of the prey towards Rosedapple and begin the day's session, but Rosedapple surprised him by touching his flank with her tail. He blinked into her warm blue eyes for a moment, feeling confused, and she gave him a small smile, before mewing to Rabbitpaw,

"Why don't you see if Sparrowfeather and Sleekfoot will train with you today? I know you've been doing a lot of battle training with Northstar, but they're the best hunters in the Clan."

Rabbitpaw glanced towards Northstar for confirmation; he hesitated, bemused by Rosedapple's behavior, but nodded.

"Having lessons from more than one mentor makes for a more well-rounded apprentice," he said. Rabbitpaw grinned.

"We'll train later, okay?" she asked, springing to her paws and dashing over to the two she-cats, who were sharing a meal of their own. Sparrowfeather and Sleekfoot looked surprised to be approached, but eager, and after polishing off their meal, the three of them left camp together. Northstar turned to Rosedapple, still feeling slightly puzzled.

"What was that about?"

"Rabbitpaw idolizes you; you're everything to her now," Rosedapple said quietly. "You're her father figure; Foxclaw never wanted kits, and she's not his daughter, and while Stonestar loves her, he's too busy to take care of her all the time. But her love for you blinds her to some things…like how tired you are. You're working too hard, Northstar. The battle's coming, you have to be well-rested."

"You're right, the battle is coming, and I want Rabbitpaw to be prepared," Northstar growled. He regretted his gruff tone immediately, as Rosedapple's eyes dropped down to her paws; she was still fragile, he had to remind himself of that. He touched her flank gently with her tail in apology, feeling her warmth.

"I know you want Rabbitpaw to be a warrior before then, to sort of…prove yourself to PeakClan," Rosedapple said, "but I don't want you to…." She trailed off, but he knew what she meant. She didn't want him to die in battle.

_If she knew how many lives I had, she'd be even more worried, _he thought grimly. "There's no reason to be worried, Rosedapple; I'll be fine. I've survived worse battles than this," he said. It wasn't really a lie, necessarily; if Silverstar did her part, he'd be fine.

Rosedapple rose to her paws. "Can we talk? Please?"

Northstar nodded, taken aback once again; since when did Rosedapple want to leave camp voluntarily? Still, if this was part of her healing process, he didn't want to argue.

He followed her quickly out of camp, and down the Peak. She paused for a moment, opening her mouth to scent for Rabbitpaw, before padding in the opposite direction. It took Northstar a moment to realize that she was following the same path they had walked before, before the great thunderstorm had burst forth and brought new life to the forest.

She stopped in the clearing that they had stopped in previously, and smiled; the green life he'd pointed out to her before had spread, creating what was almost a carpet of new shoots. He reached her side, stopping beside her, and to his bemusement, she leaned against him for a moment, before continuing on and sitting where they had sat, brushing one paw over the ground, a gentle expression on her face. He sat down beside her, and she pressed her pelt against his. He blinked; he could feel her heartbeat through her thick fur, and it seemed almost as if they were beating in sync. He found himself smiling.

"I'm scared, Northstar," she said softly, and he turned to look down at her.

"Scared? Of what? You won't be in the battle, Rosedapple. You and the kits will be safe atop the Peak. We'll make arrangements so that you have both food and water, in case they try to starve you out. You'll be fine, we won't let anything happen to you or the kits."

Rosedapple laughed quietly. "I'm not worried for _myself, _Northstar. I'm not that selfish…but I am selfish, I guess…I don't want you to fight in the battle."

Northstar's pelt prickled, and he was startled by the intensity of her gaze. "I have to fight, Rosedapple. I'm the best warrior of either Clan when it comes to that."

"I know," she said quietly, brushing her paw over the green shoots again. She seemed to be struggling, grappling inwardly with herself. "I know you're important…but that means you'll be on the front lines, you'll be the one in real danger, while I hide…."

Northstar frowned. "If you're worried because you don't think you're doing your part, then don't be, Rosedapple. The Clan needs you to take care of your kits. They don't expect you to do anything more; those kits are our future."

She shook her head. "I'm not worried about that either!"

Her exclamation worried Northstar; she was acting neurotically, and he didn't understand why.

_She isn't slipping back, is she? _He thought anxiously, and it felt almost as if his heart was twisting. _Not after how hard it was just to get her to smile for the first time…._

He reached out with his nose, touching her shoulder. "Just tell me what's wrong, Rosedapple," he meowed. "Allow me to understand what's troubling you, okay? I'll do whatever I can to help, you know I will."

She leaned against him, and his breath caught in his throat as her head fit snugly underneath his muzzle. "I know," she said quietly. "I know you'd like to try…but I don't want your loyalties compromised…I know you want to fight for the Clan and prove yourself to them, prove your loyalty…."

Her scent, like flower petals, wafted up to his nose, and he felt a sudden strange _warmness, _like a fire had been kindled inside of him.

"What do you want?" he murmured into her fur.

Gently, she pulled away from him, her blue eyes wide and round as she stared up at him. "I don't want you to go."

He blinked down at her. "I'm not leaving, Rosedapple. I'm not deserting PeakClan after the battle. This…this is my home now. This is where I…belong." He turned, gazing at the Peak in the distance, feeling puzzled; just when had his home ceased to be the mountains, wherein he was born and raised? When had PeakClan, the weak, spineless, pathetic Clan, become the Clan he owed his loyalties to?

"I'm not scared you'll desert us," she mewed, her voice trembling. "But, when cats leave…when they leave me…they never come back."

He turned to her again, feeling her sorrow wash over him; she blinked at him for a moment, before staring down at her paws, shame at her weakness written on her face. Northstar felt a surge of pity for the dappled she-cat; she'd had cats leave her time and again, for bigger and better things; Lightstar, Graywing, even Blackmoon turned his back on her as his duties became too much for him to handle, despite his feelings for her. Rosedapple had been left behind by her Clanmates for moons; Northstar suddenly wondered how much he didn't know, what had happened to her before she and Lightstar had even fallen in love. Had she been betrayed then too, as far back as when she was an apprentice?

"I'll never leave you, okay?" Northstar asked quietly, and with his tail he gently pushed her back against him, her muzzle lying alongside his chest. He hesitated, then gently licked her ear. "I'm here for you, Rosedapple."

"What if you die?" she whispered into his fur. "I'll be alone again."

"Blackmoon still cares for you; he's just busy," Northstar meowed. "And you'll have Rabbitpaw, Fawncloud, Hawkpaw…your friends. Your Clanmates. And your kits, too, Rosedapple, never forget them. They'll love you forever." He closed his eyes, and his father rose into his mind, his cold eyes and white fur, the familiar sneer on his face.

_Despite all of his faults…he was cruel, he was cold, he never had time for anything but the conquest of the forest Clans…I still loved him, _he thought. _All I ever wanted when I was an apprentice was for him to accept me as his son, to train me himself…when Brackenheart died, I suppose I got my wish….But then I turned against him, my father, for power…and even then, I still loved him. Kits can't help what they feel for their parents._

_But I never knew my father, not really. I didn't know the cat that had managed to unite the mountain cats against the intruders; I never knew the cat that loved my mother so deeply. That was all before my time…by the time I knew him, he was different. He'd changed. He wasn't willing or able to love me._

_But Rosedapple loves her kits, despite the pain they brought her. She loves all of them, even Graywing's kits. As long as she has them, she'll never be alone._

He smiled into her fur, his muzzle resting atop her head. Then, his ears flattened; Rosedapple was right to be afraid. There was still a chance that Silverstar would fail in her duty to bring Lion down. If she could injure him enough for Northstar to finish him off, they might have a chance, but he could still die as a result.

He didn't want to die without someone knowing the truth. The entire truth.

"Rosedapple," he said quietly. "There's a lot about me that you don't know."

She shifted to blink up at him. "I s it important?" she asked; his expression seemed to answer the question for him, and she nodded. "I'm listening, Northstar."

And he began to speak, the story unraveling itself word by word, pouring out of his heart where he had kept it hidden, locked away, pouring itself into Rosedapple. She simply stared at him, her expression not changing until he finished with her rescue…she knew everything after that.

"You rescued me…and you used that to get yourself into the Clan," she said slowly. "You were wanting power again."

He nodded, and he could feel his stomach clenching; he didn't want Rosedapple to think badly of him, but it was inevitable with the sort of cat that he was. Now she knew everything; he was no longer in the shadows. Finally, he had told the truth, and it felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"But…I was an outcast to the Clan," Rosedapple said slowly. "There was no reason for you to stay with me beyond that. And yet, you did. You took care of me…and it can't only be because of my kits, you were still here even after they were born, even after Graywing died and you knew that I would be around as long as they needed me. You still tried to help me."

He blinked slowly; it was true, although he didn't remember it like that. There had always been some sort of angle…hadn't there? When had that changed too?

"And Rabbitpaw…you brought her back to the Clan, but you didn't have to visit her. But you did, you tried to take care of her too." Rosedapple was smiling now. "And now you're her mentor, trying to prepare her for the battle, trying to keep her safe." She let out a low purr, and Northstar was more confused than ever before; how could she be smiling at him, purring as though he wasn't a monster? He had killed his own father.

Then, she moved forward, pressing her muzzle against his chest. Northstar pulled away, and Rosedapple glanced up at him, puzzled.

"How can you…how can you pretend that what I told you doesn't matter?" he growled. "I killed cats, plenty of good cats. I had medicine cats killed, and I allowed my own father to be killed as well. It was my lust for power that led to Lion gaining it. I'm the true cause of the coming battle, not Silverstar. And you…you act like a few kind acts over the past two moons erase all of that."

"Of course they don't," Rosedapple meowed, "but StarClan is there to judge that, not I. All I know of you is what I've seen, and…you saved me, Northstar, more times than I can count. You saved me on the cliff, and you saved me time and time again from making the final choice. I would have killed myself a moon ago, if you hadn't been here for me. And you saved Rabbitpaw, too; Dapplefern was a dark influence on her. She's got a certain…twisted feeling to her, one that I can't quite explain, but everyone feels it. Rabbitpaw could have become the same thing, but you're her mentor now, and you saved her too. What you did before coming here…that doesn't matter. The only cat I can judge is the one I see before me right now, staring at me, confused…lonely. Because you're lonely, just like me. But, just like me, you can change, and you have changed and…."She trailed off, and Northstar felt hot underneath his fur from her gaze, her blue eyes twinkling at him with a emotion he didn't quite recognize, but _felt, _thrumming at the core of him.

_I've been trying to save Rosedapple from herself, the entire time I've been here, _he thought. _But…at the same time…she was saving me too. _

"I love you, Northstar," Rosedapple whispered. "And that's why I'm afraid to let you go…because the cats I love, they don't…they don't come back to me. They leave me alone, and I have to pick up the pieces, and…." Her voice was trembling, so badly that it was difficult to make out the words she was trying to speak. "I'm not strong enough to pick them up again."

Northstar was moving forward before he knew what he was doing, and suddenly Rosedapple was against his side, as he curled around her, and he could feel her heart thudding wildly against his chest, and for a moment he saw it, that wild, fierce joy he had seen during the thunderstorm. He let out a low, rumbling purr, and he could feel her purring too as she let herself go, melting against him, letting go of her fear of being lost as he finally – finally – let go of the guilt and loneliness that he'd been holding within himself ever since Brackenheart's death.

He didn't speak a word, but he didn't need to; Rosedapple knew his heart as surely as she knew her own, and for a moment, he smiled; they were both broken in different ways, but it didn't matter.

_Between the two of us, we've got one whole heart._

. . .

They entered camp the next day, together; Northstar could feel the Clan's curiosity, wondering at the closeness of their pelts, of their obvious absence the night before. However, it was not the suspicious, sneering curiosity that Northstar had come to expect from the Clan towards Rosedapple; it was simply open curiosity, and he smiled; things were changing still, within the Clan, for the better.

He escorted Rosedapple to the nursery, promising to return with prey, only to find himself stopped by both Sparrowfeather and Sleekfoot at the fresh-kill pile.

"We trained with Rabbitpaw for most of yesterday," Sparrowfeather mewed.

"Stonestar wanted to know how well she was doing, so we made it sort of an assessment," Sleekfoot said.

"Suffice to say, Stonestar is very impressed with her training," Sparrowfeather continued.

"He thinks she is ready to become a warrior," Sleekfoot finished.

Northstar blinked with surprise; he hadn't thought that Rabbitpaw would be made into a warrior so quickly. "When will the ceremony be?"

"Today, I think he said?" Sparrowfeather meowed, glancing at Sleekfoot for confirmation. The blue-gray warrior nodded.

"Today," she affirmed, and smiled at Northstar. "Congratulations."

Northstar felt as though part of his mind had been left behind. "Does Rabbitpaw know?"

Sparrowfeather purred. "Of course not."

"It's always best to keep it a surprise for them, right?" Sleekfoot asked, eyes sparkling.

Northstar nodded slowly, and then blinked, realizing they were waiting for something. "This is, ah, great news," he meowed. "Thank you both very much."

They both nodded, before padding away; Northstar quickly grabbed a pigeon, padding back to Rosedapple.

"What did they want?" she asked with a quiet purr, resting her head against his shoulder as he lied down; he started plucking the feathers, his mind still elsewhere.

She nudged his shoulder, and he blinked, coming out of his reverie. "What?"

"What did Sparrowfeather and Sleekfoot want?"

"Oh…Rabbitpaw's going to be made a warrior, today," he answered. Rosedapple's face lit up.

"That's great! She really deserves it."

"Yeah…I wish I could have been there for her assessment, though…." He trailed off, realizing what he was implying. "Not that I wasn't happy to be with you, of course," he added quickly, and Rosedapple nuzzled his shoulder.

"I know," she meowed; her blue eyes seemed to sparkle, and it was like her entire face was glowing as she looked at him; his gaze softened slightly, but he let out a quiet sigh, pushing the pigeon away.

"What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy. You want her to be a warrior, don't you?"

"Of course, but…the battle's almost here, and as a warrior, she'll be in a lot more danger than she would be if she was just an apprentice…we'll need every warrior on our side, you know?"

"You'll keep her safe," Rosedapple said. "You won't let anything bad happen to her."

"I'll be making sure Silverstar doesn't fail in her duty, that's what I'll be doing," Northstar growled, and Rosedapple smiled.

"Exactly. Once you or Silverstar or whoever kills Lion, the rest of his forces won't know what to do. And we'll win."

He glanced at her. "You seem a lot more certain than you were yesterday."

She gave him a little shrug. "Everything seems…brighter this morning."

Northstar's gaze traced over her dappled form, her shimmering fur, and a slight smile curled his muzzle. "They certainly do."

"Hey!" Rabbitpaw's bright chirp made him turn. He and Rosedapple exchanged glances, and Rabbitpaw frowned at the two of them suspiciously.

"What are you doing?" she asked slowly. "You're looking all…close. Closer. Than usual, I mean. You know. What's up?"

"Nothing," Northstar growled quickly, wanting to head her off, but Rabbitpaw smelled the figurative prey, and her eyes lit up.

"You guys were both gone last night, right? _Together?"_

"We were not—" Northstar protested, earning him an amused glance from Rosedapple and an even wider grin from Rabbitpaw.

"You _were! _You _are! _Oh, StarClan, wait until Dapplefern hears this, right? She'll absolutely _freak! _You know what that means, right? You're Brackenkit and Birdkit's _daddy _now!" Rabbitpaw could hardly contain her excitement.

Northstar swallowed; that particular thought hadn't hit him just yet. He glanced over his shoulder, hearing the kits inside; it sounded like they were fighting.

_I'm their…father? _He thought slowly. _Lightstar's kits…both litters of them._

His ears flattened, and he stared down at his black paws. _This is one thing I'm not ready for. I can't be their father. I'm hardly the best role model, considering my relationship with my own father…._

Rabbitpaw's face fell. "I said something wrong, didn't I? Jeez, I'm sorry. Was I wrong? Aren't you…?"

"We are," Rosedapple said quietly. Rabbitpaw smiled again, but she still looked worried.

"I just don't think the whole father-thing had quite hit yet," Rosedapple said, glancing at Northstar again. "You don't have to be, if you don't want to, you know. They aren't really your kits, not your responsibility—"

Northstar was silent.

"Um…I'll go and, uh, hunt," Rabbitpaw said quickly. "Hawkpaw and I were gonna go anyway."

She quickly slipped away; Northstar pulled the pigeon towards him and slowly began plucking the feathers, still feeling uneasy.

"Are you okay?" Rosedapple asked. "I didn't want to spring this on you, but Rabbitpaw sort of…."

"I don't know how to be a father," he said quietly.

She let out a quiet purr. "Just do for them what you do for Rabbitpaw; she's turned out just fine, remember?"

"But how do I tell them? They haven't known a father for the first two moons of their life, and then I stroll up and tell them that they have one now?"

Rosedapple flushed. "That might not be a problem, actually…you see, they can hear us talking, and since I talk to Fawncloud sometimes now, they kind of have the basic idea of what a father is…and you're the only tom they've seen, besides Hawkpaw…and maybe they subconsciously remember your scent from their kitting, I don't know, but they already kind of see you as…."

Northstar glanced over his shoulder; the kit-fighting sounds had stopped, and he wondered if the kits were listening in at that very moment. The fur around his shoulders ruffled slightly.

"I don't want them to know a father, and just lose him," Northstar said quietly.

"Then just don't risk yourself, okay? Just stay safe for us."

Northstar looked away. "I can't do that, Rosedapple. I'm going to be an important part of this battle. And if I have to die to make sure that we win, I'll do it."

He blinked slowly, remembering his last conversation with Brackenheart.

"_Would you be prepared to lose your own life for hers?"_

Northstar had said no; at that moment he had treasured his life more than hers, held himself far above her. But as he turned his head, watching her leave camp with the brown apprentice at her side, he knew that he would do it now in an instant. She was his Clanmate, his apprentice. And Rosedapple was his mate, and her kits were his kits, and he would do anything for them.

_Change, _he thought grimly. _Was this StarClan's plan all along? Did they know it would happen? Or did I just change myself?_

He took the first bite of the pigeon, before nudging towards her. She took a bite as well, still watching him anxiously.

"If I die, there's always StarClan," he said quietly, and she nodded, eyes still slightly downcast.

_Although I'll probably never make it there, _he thought silently, but how could he tell her that?

. . .

The Clan waited for Rabbitpaw to return for her ceremony, but she was oblivious, taking her sweet time to hunt with Hawkpaw. She finally returned with several decent catches, much to Northstar's pleasure, before blinking with confusion at seeing everyone already gathered together; word had spread quickly that young Rabbitpaw was to become a warrior.

Mousepaw peeked out of the apprentice den, then bounced towards his sister quickly. She gave him a little purr, and a quick, puzzled look around camp.

Stonestar came out of his den, letting out a loud yowl, calling the Clan together.

"Today, as many of you know, we are here to make two apprentices into warriors," he meowed. Delight quickly spread over Rabbitpaw's face, while apprehension grew on Mousepaw's.

"Rabbitpaw, Mousepaw, come here please," he continued. Rabbitpaw hastened to obey, with Mousepaw trailing behind her.

"I, leader of PeakClan,call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to learn your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turns." He turned to Rabbitpaw.

"Rabbitpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Rabbitpaw raised her muzzle. "I do."

"Then, by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Rabbitpaw, from this day forward you will be known as Rabbitleap. StarClan honors your energy and spirit, and we welcome you as a full warrior of PeakClan."

He turned to Mousepaw, repeating the question. Mousepaw swallowed, glancing up at the sky as if for courage, before mewing,

"I do."

Rabbitleap let out a purr despite herself, for the lack of a stutter in Mousepaw's voice. Stonestar glanced at her quickly, and she flushed with embarrassment, looking down at her paws.

"Then, by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Mousepaw, from this day forward, you will be known as Mousestep. StarClan honors your loyalty and swiftness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of PeakClan."

"Rabbitleap!"Northstar yowled. "Mousestep!"

"Rabbitleap! Mousestep! Rabbitleap! Mousestep!" the Clan yowled with him. Rabbitleap's face glowed with happiness, and even Mousestep quirked a little smile, although Northstar noticed his legs were trembling.

"Tonight, Rabbitleap and Mousestep will sit vigil for the Clan," Stonestar announced. At this, PeakClan murmured to one another for a moment; Rabbitleap and Mousestep both looked surprised, although they remained silent, padding together to sit at the entrance of the camp.

"That ritual hasn't been used here in a long time, since Lightstar's own vigil," Rosedapple said quietly.

"Why not?"

Rosedapple shrugged. "Why deprive them of sleep?"

Northstar smiled slightly. "To prove that they're warriors, warriors of a strong Clan…one who is still in tune with StarClan." He glanced up at the sky, where the first stars of the night were appearing. "Perhaps PeakClan is returning to their faith."

**AN: If I gave the chapters titles like I used to, this one would be "Finally". For a number of obvious reasons.**

**By FF's standards, this is the 50****th**** chappy, so it had to be kinda special. By my standards, next chapter is the 50****th****, so it's gotta be…well, you'll see. We are so close to the end, though, we've only got…maybe four chappies? Five? And they'll probably fly by….*sniffle***

**Also, today I'm going to Cincinnati, so I wanted to get this to you before I leave. I'm spoiling you, I know, but I just can't hold onto chappies once they're done. Anywho, I might even have another done by the time I'm back, if I can bring the computer. Who knows?**


	51. C h a p t e r 50

**AN: The REAL 50****th**** chappy. Yaaaay.**

**The longer the month goes on, the slower the updates (probably) because I only get 40 hours of Pandora a month…and I'm going through them rather quickly, eh. But that might not matter, considering when this story could possible end.**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**50**

Silverstar bared her fangs. "I'm not afraid of killing you, Toxin. I'm not playing games with you."

"I know," Toxin said with a smile. "After what I just saw, you could probably do it, too. You're Silverstar now, right? A big shot with StarClan, and all?"

Silverstar hissed, unsheathing her claws. "You have five seconds to explain yourself, or I _will _kill you."

"Well, that's five more seconds than I need, since I already told you; I'm here to help."

Silverstar sprang forward, knocking Toxin to the ground. Toxin's icy eyes stared up at her, and Silverstar's own narrowed.

"Why? Why on earth would you help us?" Silverstar asked, eyes narrowed.

"You could let me up," Toxin suggested. "It's hard to talk with you on my chest."

Silverstar didn't move, and Toxin sighed quietly. "Fine, be angry. It's quite simple, really; growing up in a Clan like FrozenClan, whose leader viewed us all as simply tools with which to destroy the forest Clan. That means we weren't really close, as Clanmates, which also means I owed my loyalty to very few cats. Most of them are dead now, or…discredited."

"Your father?"

Toxin nodded. "My father was one on the last cats I was loyal to. Lion killed him while I was away, unable to protect him…so it's simple. I have to avenge my father."

Silverstar's eyes narrowed. "And you're siding with us to do that?"

Toxin smiled. "I'll be honest, who wins doesn't really matter to me, so long as Lion is dead. You stand a far better chance than I do at killing him, even though nine lives won't do you much good. So, I've got to side with you, for the time being."

"Any reason I shouldn't kill you?" Silverstar asked. "What good are you to me?"

Toxin smiled. "Lion wants me to spy for him; he sent me here. And when I return, I'll tell him whatever you want me to, to make him fall into some sort of trap. You kill him, and we all move on with our lives."

Silverstar hesitated; she didn't want to kill Toxin, especially when the silver she-cat could indeed be useful.

_This isn't the sort of thing I should decide, _she thought. _War strategy…that's Northstar's thing, not mine._

She considered shouting for him, but he was probably back to the Peak. It was up to her.

_We need every advantage, _she thought. _Even if it means siding with her. And avenging your father is hardly something that Northstar would understand…but I do._

"How do I know this isn't a trick? That you're not just collecting information for him?"

Toxin grinned. "Believe me, if I was, I'd already have everything I needed. I was spying on you for a moon without being noticed, before setting the trap that nearly had you and Northstar killing each other, remember? I could have just stayed hidden. I don't want to know your plans. Just tell me what I need to tell him."

Silverstar hesitated for another brief moment, before sighing. "Fine. But if you try to hurt anyone, I'll kill you." She took a step back.

Toxin rose smoothly, smiling. "You've turned into a little Northstar, haven't you? It's almost cute, you guys are like best friends now. I wonder, how long did it take before your father became a distant memory? How long before you decided that his murder wasn't important after all?"

A snarl ripped its way from Silverstar's chest. "My father's memory never faded; I just know that killing Northstar won't bring him back. And I know my father is waiting for me in StarClan, unlike yours."

Toxin's eyes flashed dangerously. "Tell me what I need to say."

Silverstar turned away, trying to think. _Our numbers will be evenly matched, _she thought, _but if we could surround them, they'd be confused, fighting on two sides….We can use Cane and Amber in the city to do that._

"Tell him we have allies in the city, and they'll jump him if he tries to go through Twolegplace. Tell him it's safest to go through the marsh."

_They'll be covered in mud, too, so we can tell the difference easily between our allies and enemies. Cane and Amber can circle in from the other side of the marsh, while we attack them at the front._

"That all?"

"Tell him some of us left after the fire, too," she continued. "Tell him our numbers are low. Tell him we're vulnerable."

Toxin smiled. "Will do."

Silverstar frowned at her, puzzled; if TalonClan fell, Toxin wouldn't have anyone to fall back on.

"What exactly is your plan?" she asked. "If we defeat TalonClan, where will you go?"

Toxin smirked. "They'll be looking for a leader once Lion dies. I'll be there to pick up his slack and take my rightful place. I'll lead TalonClan, we'll flee, end of story. Lion made an agreement with Carmelo that I intend to keep; we might not be able to beat Cane and Amber afterwards, but we can help him gain more territory." Her icy eyes glowed, and Silverstar felt a prickle of foreboding; she was certain that Toxin wouldn't be satisfied with just TalonClan in the mountains, or even the Twolegplace if she and Carmelo managed to tear it away from the sibling bosses.

_We'll cross that Thunderpath when we come to it, _she decided. _Our current survival is all that matters._

"How long until Lion arrives, do you think?" Silverstar asked. Toxin smiled.

"Eight days."

Silverstar's fur prickled; it seemed too soon, too quick. Only eight days, and Lion would be in the marsh, on the prowl, looking for her….

"Okay," she said quietly. "Leave the forest, now. If I see you, or anyone else in AshClan does, we'll kill you on the spot. I'm not going to allow you to double-cross us."

Toxin smiled even wider, blue eyes glittering. "Pleasure doing business with you, Silver_star,_" she purred, and Silverstar watched as she slipped away unto the undergrowth.

Her heart didn't stop racing until she entered camp.

. . .

"You did _what?"_ Eaglestrike exclaimed. She held up her tail.

"Eaglestrike, please, don't be too loud," she growled. "I don't want the Clan to worry."

"You made a deal with_ Toxin, _Silverstar! AshClan is _going _to be worried! We've got eight days to prepare for the battle that will decide the future of the forest!"

Silverstar's eyes narrowed. "Do you think I made the wrong choice?"

Eaglestrike stopped pacing a moment to stare at her, then sighed quietly. "Honestly, Silverstar, I just don't know. I don't know if you made the right choice, or the wrong choice…I mean, you really had _no_ choice, but…it doesn't sit well with me, making agreements with her."

"If we survive, we can worry about Toxin then, and step up again if we need to," Silverstar said firmly. "Right now, I'm only concerned with our survival."

Eaglestrike glanced out of the den, and she knew he was thinking of Ravenwing and her unborn litter. Silverstar reached out to touch his shoulder with her tail.

"I did for her," she said quietly. "For every warrior in this Clan. We have to make deals to win this battle, even with our enemies. It was the only way."

"Somehow, that just makes it worse," he replied, shaking his head. "Making deals with Slaughter's spawn…."

She nodded, then swallowed, staring out of the den as well. "How much do we tell them."

"The Clan?" Eaglestrike asked, and she nodded. "Everything. None of them – besides Brightfire and Rainsplash, and I suppose Frostfeather and Ravenwing – know Toxin like you and I do. They won't be as much against it, and they have a right to know."

Silverstar nodded. "Okay. I'll do that here in a minute…." She sighed quietly, and Eaglestrike touched her shoulder.

"The Clan will still support you, no matter what you do," he said quietly, his yellow eyes gentle. "We follow you for a reason."

Silverstar laughed quietly. "Honestly, I'm not worried about AshClan disagreeing with all this," she meowed. "What I'm worried about is Northstar."

Eaglestrike winced. "Yeah. He's not going to take this well. And we're seeing him in…three days?"

Silverstar nodded grimly. "I've got three days to attempt to find a way to explain this that won't end with him snapping," she said with a quiet sigh. "Well, I'm going to tell the Clan, okay?"

Eaglestrike nodded, following her out of the den, watching as his leader too to the pile of branches to tell her Clan the interesting news of their newest alliance.

. . .

The next day flew by, and the next, but the third seemed to drag on and on. Silverstar kept glancing up at the sky, tracking the sun's movements, watching it slowly drift down. Finally, she couldn't handle lounging around camp any longer. She looked around camp, smiling as she saw the Clan going about its day; Reedrush and Jag were sharing tongues, Darkstorm was watching the nursery with a rather sad expression – Silverstar guessed he was counting the days until Jaykit could be apprentice, since Robinkit's apprenticeship might be delayed because of her leg – and she could see that both Rainsplash and Brightfire had left camp, possibly with Bramblethorn.

As she thought of him, the brown tom appeared in the nursery; he met her gaze for a moment, and gave her a slight nod, looking almost embarrassed to be caught emerging from the large den. He padded towards the fresh-kill pile quickly.

Forest was also gone, Silverstar realized, although she could see Thistlepaw with his mother, Brightflash; Forest was probably with Brightfire and Rainsplash on a patrol.

_Ravenwing and Frostfeather are both in the nursery…and Eaglestrike is visiting her, I think, _Silverstar thought, feeling lonely oddly lonely even though she was surrounded by her Clanmates. _I don't want to disturb them…._

"Silverstar!" Reedrush's bright voice startled Silverstar, and she smiled at her niece, who had padded forward to greet her.

"Good morning…or afternoon, I guess," Silverstar purred, glancing up at the sky for the umpteenth time.

"You've been looking anxious all day," Reedrush meowed. "Want to patrol, to take your mind off of things?"

Silverstar nodded quickly, and turned slightly as Shimmerpaw emerged in her den.

"Iz coming too," the little apprentice said bluntly, trotting forward. "Need some leaves and junk."

Silverstar smiled at her other niece, feeling slightly warmed by their presences; the revelation of her family had been shocking at first, but now it almost felt like they had been her family all along; she knew she was the closest thing to a mother that Shimmerpaw currently had, even if Cinderstream visited her daughter in her dreams from time to time.

"That really sounds great," she purred, flicking her tail against Shimmerpaw's ear affectionately. Shimmerpaw glowered at her, but didn't bite Silverstar's thick tail as she would have another cat's.

The three of them padded into the forest together, with Silverstar leading the way; she paused for a moment as they neared the river, choosing which direction they should go.

"I need more moss," Shimmerpaw said quietly from behind her. "I wants to have lots for when everyone goes to the Peak to hide before the battle, for nests 'n' stuff. And water. Gotta be prepared if there's another fire."

Silverstar glanced at the silver apprentice to see if she was joking, but her face was deadly serious; of course, that didn't mean that Shimmerpaw wasn't still joking, since she had an odd sense of humor. Silverstar quirked a smile just in case, then nodded.

"You don't mind if we make this a hunting patrol, instead of a border patrol, do you?" Silverstar asked Reedrush. Reedrush let out a quiet purr.

"Not at all; being in the nursery has made me a little rusty, I think. It'll be awhile before Blizzardkit is apprenticed, but he doesn't need me as much as he used to, so I'd like to start training again soon to make sure I'm ready to be a warrior when the time comes."

"You managed just fine after a moon of imprisonment with Twolegs," Silverstar reminded her. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

Reedrush laughed quietly. "I only survived thanks to Jag," she meowed; her green eyes had a sort of cloudy look to them as she spoke of the silver-gray tom, and Silverstar frowned, noting that she used his rogue name instead of his warrior name. Silverstar decided not to mention it, however, heading in the direction of GreenRocks.

As they walked, Silverstar kept her mouth open to catch the scents of the forest, hoping that they might get lucky and stumble onto some prey; she blinked with surprise as Reedrush suddenly turned, darting away silently. Shimmerpaw continued without noticing – or perhaps not caring – but Silverstar paused to wait.

Reedrush appeared moments later with a skinny vole in her jaws. She dropped it, and buried it quickly. "Better than nothing, right? The wind was blowing the wrong way for you to smell it, I had to listen for it."

Silverstar let out a quiet purr. "I suppose I'm just distracted. Good catch, though."

Reedrush rolled her jade eyes. "I'd be distracted too, if I had this whole mess weighing down on my shoulders," she replied. "Don't worry about it; no one will think worse of you for missing a vole while the likes of Toxin skulk around the forest waiting to pounce."

Silverstar twitched her whiskers in amusement, and they continued through the forest, quickly catching up with Shimmerpaw.

The next time they happened upon prey, it was Silverstar who found it first; taking Reedrush's advice, she made sure to keep her ears pricked for the slightest sound of prey moving through the burnt undergrowth. She heard the scratching of tiny claws on dry leaves, and held up her tail for Reedrush and Shimmerpaw to stop so they wouldn't spook the prey. The wind was blowing into Silverstar's face, but the creature was somewhere to the left; mouse or vole, she couldn't tell. It was important, since mice were much more sensitive and quick than voles; she'd have to be more careful if it was a mouse. There was no way to tell, however, so she decided to simply be as quiet and careful as she could. With the undergrowth mostly burned away from the fire, it was easy to spot prey…but easy for prey to see her, too.

She fell into a hunter's crouch, smiling slightly at the familiarity of it; no matter what might happen to shake the forest to its roots, there were always simple truths, like the crouch for hunting mice, the pounce for hunting rabbits, the slicing of claws through fur. No matter what else changed, the things she learned as an apprentice would stay the same. It would always be that way.

She slunk forward, keeping her belly to the ground so that it barely brushed where the leaves normally were; most of them were gone now, but a few still remained, enough that she had to be careful of each step in order not to crackle and send her prey running.

Her eyes narrowed as she drew nearer to the source of the noise, seeing that it was a mouse; it was a skinny mouse, of course, but everyone had fallen on hard times in the forest. She crept forward as quickly as she could, freezing as the mouse's head rose. It stared at her for a moment with liquid black eyes, before suddenly turning and dashing away as quickly as it could. She tensed, coiling her muscles, then sprang forward, landing on the mouse neatly. It let out a muffled squeak underneath her paws, and she quickly sank her teeth into its neck, silencing it.

She returned to her nieces, quickly burying the mouse, and the three of them continued on to GreenRocks without interruption.

"Do you need help collecting moss?" Silverstar asked. Shimmerpaw rolled her eyes at the pair of them.

"Just need a lil more," she meowed. "Not much left here anyway. Gotta leaf some for later."

Silverstar nodded, watching as Shimmerpaw began expertly pulling the remaining moss from the stones carefully, trying to get large pieces instead of only scraps. Reedrush was quiet for a moment, but her tail was twitching, and she was clearly agitated.

"Something wrong?" Silverstar asked quietly. Reedrush glanced at her as if startled that she'd noticed.

"Can we, um, hunt some more?" she asked quietly. Silverstar glanced at Shimmerpaw – she didn't think it was a good idea to leave her alone – before nodding; Shimmerpaw had lived on her own for some time, so she was anything but defenseless.

Reedrush rose to her paws, quickly padding away from GreenRocks, with Silverstar on her heels. Once they were out of earshot, Reedrush paused.

"Scent anything?" Silverstar asked quietly, although she knew from the way that Reedrush was glancing towards GreenRocks, she had not.

"Do you think we're really part of the Clan?" Reedrush blurted. "Jag and I, I mean?"

Silverstar blinked; she hadn't expected that question. "Of course," she said warmly. "Everyone likes you, and Jaggedclaw too, although I know he's a little…distant."

"Distant doesn't even begin to cover it," Reedrush meowed, sitting down and curling her tail around her paws. "I just…I don't know. I know I keep calling him Jag, but his name is Jaggedclaw…he just doesn't _feel _like Jag. I mean…I'm the closest cat to him in the Clan, and I know he'd fight for me if anything happened…but sometimes it feels like I barely know him. He only helped me at first because I was with kits. But…he knows all about me, my past, the Kalan, my father, everything. He was there when I had my kits, and when Myrtle died…but I know nothing about him. He won't talk about his past with me, he won't say how he got his scars, or where he was planning to go when we met…what kind of life he wanted to lead before he was sucked into this whole Clan business. Sometimes I'm just scared that I'm losing him, because when it comes right down to it, I don't know what he _wants._" Her ears flattened. "And I know if he leaves then I won't be alone, I have the rest of the Clan…but somehow that just makes it feel _worse, _like the rest of the Clan would just fill up the hole he left and it would be like he never existed."

Silverstar's pelt prickled, sensing a certain similarity between how she felt about Forest when he left and Reedrush's predicament. "Even if Jaggedclaw leaves us, the Clan will remember him," she said gently. "And Blizzardkit will remember him too. You two are only here because he helped you when you needed it, and he didn't leave even when you no longer needed him. Jaggedclaw cares for you, and so long as you're here, he will be too."

Reedrush blinked at her, her emerald eyes wide and worried. "I just wish he'd let me know what he's thinking, what he's been through…I want to help him, because sometimes he looks at me and it's like he's in pain, like I remind him of whatever it was he was running away from…he's only ever mentioned his first mate once around me, and it was back when we first met. He hasn't spoken of her sense, all I know about her is that she looked like my Myrtle."

"Have you asked?"

Reedrush's ears flattened. "I've tried to sort of introduce the topic a few times, but he always just stonewalls me, because he doesn't want to talk about it…he doesn't want to let me in, even though I really care about him…."

"Maybe he just needs some time," she said gently. Reedrush's fur ruffled slightly around her shoulders.

"You and Forest haven't know each other as long as Jag and I have, but you're both so close," she said quietly, and Silverstar almost smiled.

_Now we're getting to the heart of the matter, _she thought, and nuzzled Reedrush's shoulder. "Forest and I haven't know each other as long, that's true, but Forest's past is basically clean; he doesn't have many scars, inside or outside. Jag, on the other paw, has clearly had a difficult life; that sort of damage takes months to undo, and even longer to understand how to cope with it. And he needs to know that you're there for him when he decides that he's able to talk about this. Don't try to force it on him, Reedrush; it's plain that he's either been alone for most of his life, or around very dangerous cats, and being so close to this many cats – either for the first time or again – must be very hard on him. He certainly doesn't stick around because he's fond of Darkstorm." Silverstar was pleased to see Reedrush's whiskers twitch with amusement. "He's here because of you, because he's your friend. And if either of you ever want to be more than friends…well, you can both decide that you're ready for that together."

Reedrush smiled, and touched Silverstar's shoulder with her nose. "Thank you, Silverstar." She rose to her paws. "We should make sure Shimmerpaw hasn't been eaten by a badger, or something."

"Or that Shimmerpaw didn't _eat _a badger," Silverstar purred, and the two of them headed back to GreenRocks together.

. . .

Reedrush had been right about time going faster while they were on patrol; by the time Shimmerpaw finished collecting her moss and Reedrush and Silverstar had gone back to collect their own catches, it was nearly sundown.

Silverstar placed her mouse on the fresh-kill pile, before turning to Forest, who twitched his tail at her in welcome, beckoning for her to eat with him. She let out a purr, then hesitated, knowing that she should be getting the Clan ready for the Gathering. She flicked her ear at him, hoping that he'd know she would be there in a moment, before padding atop the pile of branches that served as their temporary HighBranch.

"AshClan!" she yowled, calling her Clan together; she waited a moment for her Clan to collect itself in front of her; she smiled at the sight of so many cats looking up at her expectantly, her heart thudding in her chest as it always did when she addressed her Clan. Sometimes it was hard to believe that she was truly their leader, but she only needed to feel her heart beat to image the power of StarClan running through her veins.

"As you know, tonight we are meeting with PeakClan, to tell them of our deal with Toxin and the supposed date of Lion's arrival. I expect they won't be pleased with us, but PeakClan rarely is."

A few amused purrs rippled through the Clan, and she continued.

"Many of you do not hail from the Clans, and thus you do not know what Gatherings truly are. Underneath the full moon, all of the Clans in the territory gather together for a night of peace. Cats who might normally be enemies talk to those they might fight in battle, as every side tries to see what has happened to the other Clans in the past moon. The full moon shows us that StarClan is pleased, and warns us not to break the sacred peace; sometimes if StarClan is displeased, clouds will cover the moon and block the moonlight, usually signaling that the Gathering is over. Leaders from the Clans share their news, and often declare alliances. This is what shall be done tonight.

"For those going, I want you to be careful, but also be warm; PeakClan is our ally for the moment, and it is best that we make certain that we treat each others as such, not as enemies. In a few days, you will fight beside PeakClan warriors to defend your home. PeakClan will be doing the same, with just as much honor and dignity. Tonight should help us become comrades, and ease the tension between Clans. But, be careful not to say too much; Gatherings are just as much about listening as speaking.

"Not every cat can go to a Gathering; it is thought of as an honor, but do not think you have been snubbed if you cannot go, for truly to guard the Clan is just as much of an honor. I've chosen for Bramblethorn, Brightfire, Rainsplash, Forest, and Thistlepaw to come with us. The rest of you will remain here, guarding camp." Her gaze swept over the Clan, and she felt a prickle of unease; she knew that Brightfire and Bramblethorn as well as Eaglestrike were some of the most powerful toms in the Clan. Still, for the moment AshClan was in no real danger, and she wanted to make sure that AshClan's most powerful warriors were at ease with PeakClan.

She glanced at Reedrush and Jaggedclaw, sitting together; she would have liked for Jaggedclaw to come as well, but knew he wouldn't be comfortable without the green-eyed she-cat at his side.

Darkstorm was nearby, looking sulky, but she wouldn't have chosen him even if she could; he had gone to sleep instead of guarding the fresh-kill with Bramblethorn, and they had lost prey because of it. She did not blame Bramblethorn, for his duty had been to watch both Shimmerpaw and the prey, and she knew Shimmerpaw was a pawful, but falling asleep was inexcusable for a warrior.

With that, she flicked her tail, springing down from the pile and padding towards Forest. He greeted her with a warm lick, and she sat down beside him, purring slightly as their pelts touched and her pelt prickled.

"Thanks for letting me go," Forest meowed, grinning crookedly at her as he nudged his half-eaten squirrel towards her. She took a bite, nodding.

"You're a loyal warrior for the Clan, and I think it will be good for Northstar to see you at your full strength…as well as for you to accept that he's our ally now," she replied.

Forest's green eyes hardened for a moment. "I don't care who our opponent is. That tom is not my ally."

She flicked her tail against his nose playfully, not wanting to upset him, but knowing that she couldn't let Forest's grudge with Northstar get in the way of their alliance; it was too important, however much she hated what Northstar had done to him, even though she'd forgiven the tom herself. "Well, at least pretend."

Forest nodded, although she could tell he still disliked the idea, then glanced towards the branch-pile. "If I'm good enough to go to the Gathering, am I good enough to be a warrior?" He turned to her. "I don't want to be the only cat there with a rogue name."

Her heart sank. "Not yet, Forest, I don't think…I know you have the heart of a warrior, but….Maybe after the Gathering, if things go well. We'll see."

He stared down at his mud-colored paws, and sighed quietly. "Okay, Silverstar, whatever you think is best. You're the leader, after all."

Silverstar licked his ear gently. "Just be patient, Forest. I know it's hard, but everything will work out."

Forest glanced up at the sky, watching the sun slowly sink down towards the horizon. "Should we be going soon?"

Silverstar turned her head, trying to see if she could see a sliver of the moon yet. "I'm not sure…we don't want to stay up too late, obviously, we've got to continue preparing for the battle…I think Stonestar might be there early, since it's been a long time since PeakClan's had a Gathering…."

_When I spoke to him about Gatherings, he mentioned that he remembered what they were, although I don't think he's been to one himself, _she thought. _Forest said a long time ago that the old rogue killed by PeakClan was here _before _PeakClan…so where did PeakClan come from, I wonder? Where did the other Clans they met with go…?_

_Probably more of StarClan's secrets, _she thought ruefully. _I suppose I'll figure it out when I die. _She twitched her whiskers, then finished off the squirrel and stood.

"AshClan," she said; her voice was quiet, but the Clan immediately snapped to attention, eager to see what was, for most of them, their first Gathering. She waited until every cat that was coming was on their paws and ready, before flicking her tail, leading them into the forest.

PeakClan's scent rose as they neared the river, and she directed them downstream, carefully; the smell of PeakClan made her pelt crawl, and she still felt the briefest shadow of fear that their scent had stirred in her the moon before, when AshClan had still been in hiding.

_Allies, not enemies, _she thought firmly, stepping out of the brush and to the long, flat stones that laid over both sides of the bank. Sure enough, PeakClan was waiting for them; the pale moon was starting to rise, but there wasn't much light to see by yet, and everything looked faintly fuzzy. For a moment, all she could see were their gleaming eyes, before she approached.

Stonestar was sitting on a long, flat rock that was slightly higher than the others. She sprang onto it with him, with Eaglestrike seated just slightly below her, the same as Sandpelt. She gave Stonestar a smile, and found him watching her closely.

"Refresh my memory," he growled. "When do we begin to rattle on about how great our Clan is doing and all that?"

Silverstar's whiskers twitched at him. "That depends. Has PeakClan really been doing well, or do you just not want to appear weak?"

Stonestar was not amused, but Silverstar forced a smile. "Let our cats mingle a bit, learn each other's names first," she said. "Then we can rattle on, as you put it." She turned to look down at the gathered cats expectedly, only to wince as she realized that they were both grouped on opposite sides, watching each other distrustfully. She sighed quietly, wanting to spring down and nudge one of her warriors forward, but knowing that it would do little good.

Then, to her surprise, the cat she recognized as Northstar's apprentice trotted forward slowly, crossing the invisible line between the two groups. She padded right up to Bramblethorn, and smiled at him. She said something quietly – about the prey she had stolen from him, probably, Silverstar realized, feeling amused at her cheekiness – before seating herself beside the large brown tom. Bramblethorn seemed bewildered for a moment, but recovered quickly, talking to her in his deep, soothing voice. Bramblethorn was one of the most charismatic cats in the Clan, Silverstar knew, although he spoke little unless he was needed.

Rabbitpaw's actions seemed to be all that was needed to break the ice, for ever so slowly, cats of opposite Clans began coming together. Thistlepaw, the daring little rascal that he was, walked right up to the PeakClan apprentices; her ear twitched as she heard him brag about living in the marshes hunting for his mother.

Silverstar sat back, feeling content, until her eyes found Forest; he was staring at Northstar with undisguised hatred gleaming in his leaf-green eyes. Her heart sank, but luckily Northstar didn't notice; he was staring right up at her, his golden eyes like twin flames.

She swallowed, slightly nervously, and glanced away; she spotted Stonestar's look of smugness for a moment, but it quickly vanished.

Silverstar watched Forest anxiously for a moment, but he did not approach Northstar, or any other PeakClan cat for that manner. He kept to his side of the stones, and Rainsplash sat with him.

Silverstar was surprised to see Brightfire mingling skillfully, although he was careful to stay far away from Northstar; she imagined their feelings of animosity hadn't faded with time either. Still, no one had attempted to pick a fight yet – Stonestar had wisely decided to leave the irritating Foxclaw back at camp, it appeared – and that was more than Silverstar had expected.

Finally, she held up her tail, signaling for silence. The gathered cats turned to her, their eyes glowing with the growing moonlight.

"Stonestar and I would like to speak now, to share news of the Clans," she meowed. "Stonestar, would you like to go first?"

He gave her a glance, almost uncertain as to why she'd allow him the honor, before rising to his paws. "PeakClan's territory is recovering well from the fire; our territory was too rocky to be deeply affected, and newleaf is on its way soon." He paused for a moment, glancing at Silverstar out of the corner of his eye, as if comparing his territory to hers.

"We also have two new warriors," he continued. "Rabbitleap and Mousestep were named as warriors and served their vigils a few nights ago."

Silverstar blinked with surprise, glancing quickly at Rabbitleap, who was still sitting with Bramblethorn. The gray she-cat was beaming with pride, and Bramblethorn gave her a congratulatory nudge with his shoulder.

"That is all the news that PeakClan has for this moon," Stonestar meowed, stepping back as he finished.

Silverstar took a step forward, her paws resting on the lip of the smooth stone. "AshClan's territory is also recovering," she mewed, "and we've been using the marsh to supplement our prey supply. Almost all of our warriors have been given warrior names and we have our first apprentice, Thistlepaw." She nodded to the little blue-gray tom, who puffed out his chest with pride; the other PeakClan apprentices remained unimpressed.

"Ravenwing has entered the nursery, as she is with kits," Silverstar continued, "and thus she has stepped down from her temporary medicine cat position."

"What of your apprentice?" Blackmoon asked softly from below. "She's hardly been in training a moon. Does she have the skills to take care of your Clan?"

Silverstar glanced down to Shimmerpaw's icy eyes. "I believe Shimmerpaw is a fast learner," she said, "but it doesn't matter. Ravenwing has taught her the basics quickly, and she can always ask her mentor for any help." She didn't want to mention Sprig – or Leafshadow, whichever she preferred to be called – tutoring the young apprentice; it would make PeakClan unhappy that StarClan was taking an active part in the training of AshClan's next generation.

However, there was much more that Silverstar had to say. _How do I tell them of Toxin? _She wondered. _Northstar…he doesn't understand the need to avenge your father. He killed mine, and probably his own. I understand Toxin in a way that he does not, which is why we are allies, for the moment. He won't trust a thing she says…._Silverstar thought quickly, knowing she had to come up with a convincing lie.

"But, there is more to this meeting than pleasantries," Silverstar continued. "During this moon, my cats overheard a group of what we believe to be TalonClan spies. They have been in the forest before, a long time ago, and managed to escape us. We overheard them talking of Lion's plans; he will strike when they return home. We allowed them to overhear us speaking of our attack plan; thus we believe we have tricked them into attacking from the marsh. With the mud coating their pelts, we can see that they are enemies, while Cane and Amber attack them from the opposite side."

Stonestar's eyes flashed. "You didn't think to inform us of this?"

Silverstar gave him a small shrug. "It was my understanding that we would talk of our plans here first," she meowed. "And we have time. Starting tomorrow, we will have four days of peace. On the fifth day…Lion arrives."

Stonestar bristled, although Silverstar did not think he was angry with her; he was nervous, perhaps even scared, that the war was approaching so quickly.

"We must prepare," Northstar growled from below. "How are we going to defend ourselves? What is our plan?"

"When they cross the Thunderpath, they will be weak," Silverstar offered. "They either have to cross in small groups and hope they aren't hit, or try to squeeze through the tunnels. It will be easy to stop them there. I think we need to relocate the queens and kits to the Peak, where they'll be safer, along with the apprentices."

Instantly, the PeakClan apprentices below her began complaining about missing the great battle, and Thistlepaw joined in as well.

"Silence," Stonestar growled down at them, flicking his tail quickly. "You apprentices will be guarding the queens and kits of both Clans; there is no higher honor than that." He turned to Silverstar. "We will need provisions."

She nodded. "My medicine cat has been collecting moss just in case, to hold water and provide bedding for nests," she mewed. "We haven't started collecting fresh-kill yet, because it will spoil."

Stonestar sighed quietly, his shoulders slumping with the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. "Very well. AshClan's queens and kits can move onto the Peak on the fourth day; PeakClan will move into your camp to be prepared for the battle."

Silverstar blinked, surprised at the arrangements, but nodded. "We can strategize for the battle in my den," she meowed. The Clans stared up at their leaders anxiously, as the true seriousness of the situation came upon them; in four days, they would be fighting for their lives and the lives of their queens, kits, and apprentices back at home.

"I think we're finished here?" Silverstar asked Stonestar and he nodded. Silverstar sprang down from the smooth rock, flicking her tail for her Clan to follow. Slowly, her warriors separated from PeakClan, and followed her into the dark forest.

. . .

Things seemed to unfold very quickly from that point on; every day was full of activity, full of planning and work. They collected as much moss as they could from GreenRocks, as well as the Black Stream and anywhere else the moss might grow, leaving barely enough for the moss to grow back in later seasons. Shimmerpaw was creating a large stockpile of herbs as well, and on the third day the Clan began to hunt in earnest, trapping as much fresh-kill as they could, patrol after patrol coming and going; they would need all the prey they could carry if they fell and the queens and kits were left to fend for themselves on the Peak.

Silverstar felt a flutter of anxiety in her stomach at the depleted amount of living prey in the forest, but she knew that when newleaf came, if they were all still around, the prey would be back in full force.

They also needed to get the message of the new attack to Cane and Amber, so Silverstar sent Forest to find Mitch and Natasha, to tell Cane and Amber; she hated being apart from him, but he was the most familiar with them, and she couldn't go herself. He came back safe and sound the next night, reporting that both Cane and Amber had given their assent, although they hated working with one another as always.

On the fourth day, Silverstar helped Reedrush, Frostfeather, and Ravenwing head to the Peak. Ravenwing carried Robinkit carefully – her leg was still injured – and both Darkstorm, Eaglestrike and Jaggedclaw accompanied them.

Silverstar flicked her tail for Darkstorm, Eaglestrike and Jaggedclaw to wait at the foot of the Peak.

"If you're going to say your goodbyes," she said quietly, "now is the time."

Darkstorm blinked at Frostfeather for a moment; she was holding Jaykit in her jaws, and Darkstorm seemed torn between saying goodbye and running for his life. Finally, he closed his eyes and quickly padded forward, pressing his nose into Frostfeather's white fur. She went rigid underneath his touch, as Darkstorm kept his eyes closed so he wouldn't see Jaykit. Then, to Silverstar's surprise, she set Jaykit down gently and rasped her tongue over Darkstorm's ear. A tremor seemed to run through the skinny tom's body, and he quickly took a step back, opening his eyes again; they seemed to glow with happiness, like twin suns, and Frostfeather smiled before picking up Jaykit again.

Ravenwing and Eaglestrike pressed their muzzles together lovingly, but Ravenwing couldn't return his loving lick thanks to the kit in her jaws.

"Be safe, okay?" she whispered to him. "I didn't give up being a medicine cat only for you to die in battle."

Eaglestrike's whiskers twitched in amusement despite himself, his yellow eyes gentle as he looked down on her lovingly. "Of course. I can't leave my kits without a father, now can I?"

Reedrush and Jaggedclaw stared at one another uncertainly, before Reedrush glanced down at Blizzardkit, who had been proud to walk the entire way. She sighed softly.

"I want to fight in the battle…but I can't just leave him here, can I?" she asked, speaking more to herself than the gathered cats. "Jaggedclaw…."

She padded forward, and then nuzzled his muzzle with her own, giving him a gentle lick before looking up at the Peak. Jaggedclaw's eyes seemed to glimmer, but he said nothing, as stoic as ever. Silverstar tried to think of what was going on in his mind, but couldn't; she knew very little of him, really, less than even Reedrush. Did he love Reedrush too?

_He has to, _she thought, watching his expression, as Reedrush, Frostfeather, and Ravenwing slowly started up the Peak, with little Blizzardkit trotting after them. He seemed to be showing no emotion, but then he bowed his head, turning away and padding towards the river without a word, his ears flat against his broad head. Her heart clenched with sympathy; whatever had happened to him before, Jaggedclaw obviously had a hard time reaching out to other cats, opening himself up…and he might have lost his only chance, if he were to die in this battle.

She sighed softly. "I'm going up with them. I'll be back in a moment," she said to Darkstorm and Eaglestrike, before walking up the Peak behind the queens and kits.

Stonestar and his warriors were waiting for them.

"The nursery is over there," he said indicating it with his tail. "We enlarged it a bit, because there is already one queen and two litters inside."

Silverstar could see the piles of dirt nearby from the nursery. "Thank you," she said quietly, following them towards the nursery.

Rosedapple was standing in the entrance, looking slightly nervous; Reedrush gave her a warm smile.

"Hopefully our kits will play nicely this time," the silver queen said, and Rosedapple smiled.

"I told them to behave themselves, and I think they're excited to have a few friends now," she said, stepping to the side. Frostfeather ducked inside, and Silverstar heard the kits' excited mewls as they saw Jaykit.

She turned her head, seeing Ravenwing padding towards the medicine den with Robinkit; she would have to stay there, away from her family, while her leg continued to heal. Silverstar felt a twinge of pity for the poor kit, who didn't understand why her mother was gone most of the time.

Only Reedrush hadn't moved, although Blizzardkit had already plunged into the nursery, and Rosedapple had entered as well.

Silverstar pressed her pelt against her niece's silver fur. "Are you okay?"

"We never…said it," Reedrush said quietly. "But I love him…I just don't know if he does, and…I might never know now, if he dies…if we lose…."

"There's always StarClan," Silverstar said, trying to reassure her. "This isn't the end. He'll be fine. We'll win, you'll see. And…I think he does too. He couldn't stand to be there once you were already on the Peak; I think he's hurting inside as much as you are." Silverstar touched her nose to Reedrush's shoulder.

"Thank you," the silver queen said quietly, and Silverstar nodded.

"I've got to go now," she said. "Be safe, Reedrush."

"Keep him safe," Reedrush meowed. "Keep them all safe."

Silverstar dipped her head, before turning and padding back to Stonestar.

"We're ready to go to your camp now," he growled, and she nodded, padding out of camp.

PeakClan followed her down the Peak, and she nodded to Eaglestrike and Darkstorm, who rejoined her at the bottom. The group padded over the river and through the forest together, and towards camp.

"We've enlarged a few of our dens too, and some of your warriors can sleep in our nursery and apprentice den, if they don't mind," Silverstar said as they entered camp. She heard one cat – probably Foxclaw – give a derisive snort, before he was quickly shushed by his mate.

Stonestar nodded, glancing around the camp. "This will do fine. Shall we discuss the battle?"

She nodded, and they entered the leader's den.

"Cane and Amber are helping by attacking from the rear, yes?" Stonestar asked, and she nodded.

"Then we need to ready ourselves near the Thunderpath, and catch them coming over it," he decided. "By dawn tomorrow. Everyone needs to rest today to be prepared."

Silverstar nodded again. "I agree…." She sighed softly. "It seems like there isn't much to discuss, really. Strategy will only get us so far, and it feels as though we've done all we can."

"Not quite," a voice said behind her, and she turned to see Northstar striding into the den. She blinked with surprise as he sat beside Stonestar; she noted that his shoulder seemed better, for which she was grateful.

"Lion is going to try and kill you," the white tom meowed, "and if he even takes one life he will be able to take the rest, easily."

Silverstar nodded. "We're prepared all we can for that, though."

He shook his head. "Not quite. When he attacks, Lion will be looking for you; he'll be fresh and strong, easily outmatching you. We must center our forces on him and his most important cats; the scouts that Slaughter first sent out, and Toxin as well. Our strongest warriors will be doing that. You will be running."

She stared at the two of them, wondering if they were serious. "Running?"

Stonestar nodded. "If we can wear down Lion before he reaches you, we'll have a chance; we only need to engage him briefly to cause as much damage as we can before getting out of his way, over and over until you are able to defeat him. You simply have to weave through the battle – take on weaker opponents if you choose, so long as you yourself are not weakened – until he is weak enough that you can kill him."

Silverstar's ears flattened. "That feels…wrong."

Northstar shrugged. "If you want to win and protect AshClan, it's the only way," he said. "Stonestar and myself will be in the battle with you, even if you can't see us. This will be our part of the battle, wearing him down; he doesn't know who we are, and he won't waste time taking our nine lives when he's chasing you, even if he can defeat us."

Silverstar's eyes widened, and she stared at Northstar; he was still maintaining his façade of being a leader, of having nine lives…and it might cost him his life, if Stonestar thought he had nine lives with which to fight Lion.

_Is he prepared to sacrifice himself? _She wondered, astonished. _Before, Northstar rarely even fought in battle, he just directed FrozenClan…but now….If he's willing, then he's thought this through, and this really is the only way….If this is his choice, I have to let him take it._

"We'll try to avoid losing any lives, but if it's unavoidable, so be it," Stonestar continued. Silverstar felt a rush of gratitude.

"Forgive me," she said softly. "Stonestar, Northstar, I underestimated the both of you. You are both strong, noble cats, who truly care for PeakClan…you are not AshClan's enemy, no matter how this battle ends."

Stonestar smiled slightly, yellow eyes glimmering, before rising to his paws. "I'm going to inform my cats that they need to rest," he said quietly. "You should do the same."

He padded out of the den, leaving Silverstar and Northstar alone together.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For being prepared to sacrifice yourself."

Northstar rose to his paws. "I've learned a few things," he growled, "like some are worth dying for."

She wondered who he meant – for it had to be a who, the way his golden eyes seemed almost misty – but didn't have time to ask, for Northstar had already left the den. She let out a quiet breath, trying to calm her nerves and find her peace.

_I don't want cats to die for me, _she thought. _But…there's nothing I can do. Cats will die either way, because of what Northstar and I started so many moons ago…his conquests, my mission, they've all led up to this._

Her heart was pounding in her chest, threatening to overwhelm her, and she finally stood, padding out of the den. Eaglestrike looked at her curiously as she passed him, but she didn't pause, continuing into the forest.

She didn't know where she was going until she found herself following the Black Stream; within moments, she was standing just below the slope of the Thunderpath.

_Tomorrow, our fate is decided, _she thought. _Tomorrow, the grass will be bathed in blood…._

"Silverstar," she heard a voice call, ringing strangely. She turned, puzzled, but could see no one.

Movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn, and she saw a slim silver tabby slip out of the pipe running underneath the Thunderpath. Toxin.

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

Toxin seemed to hold none of her usual cool; her eyes didn't hold their usual iciness. Rather, they seemed…anxious. Afraid.

"Please understand that I told him nothing," she meowed. "I did not betray you."

Silverstar's pelt prickled with foreboding. "Told Lion what?"

Toxin's ears flattened. "One of your cats came to us, a dappled female. I don't know who she was, she didn't say her name, but she smelled of PeakClan. She told Lion of your plans, how you would be waiting at the Thunderpath with Cane and Amber behind."

Silverstar's eyes widened. "Did he change is mind?"

Toxin sighed quietly. "Half of his forces are coming through the marsh still. He'll lead them. But the other half is being led by Blight, and they're going around the other side of Twolegplace…to attack you from behind. You'll be surrounded."

Silverstar's heart seemed to stop beating. They would have to fight desperately on both sides, trying to protect their camp and stop anyone from going over the river. And what would Cane and Amber do? Their forces would be split as well, trying to grapple with both halves of Lion's cats.

_Can we still do this? _She thought, her heart sinking. _Can we beat them if we're surrounded?_

"There's a bit of good news, though," Toxin said quietly, and she flicked her tail. Out of the pipe came another cat, one that Silverstar did not know; he was large, his pelt a mixture of various browns. He strode forward, trailed by a smaller, darker brown cat; Silverstar was startled to see that his eyes were a pale, sightless green.

"My name is Tremor, and this is my brother Rumble," the tom growled quietly. Behind him, more cats were appearing, slipping out of the pipe. "I lead a band of rogues; we have a grudge against Blight and TalonClan. We are here to help you."

Bewildered, Silverstar turned to the smaller tom, Rumble; he smiled as if sensing her stare.

"You may know me already; I am the cat that Sprig tutored. She told me she spoke with you, Silverstar."

Silverstar's eyes widened. _How did he speak with StarClan?_

"Sprig taught me about herbs and the stars while she was alive, and she visits me still," he continued. "I believe I am here to tutor Shimmerpaw."

Silverstar looked from Toxin, to Tremor, to Rumble, to the other rogues who stood farther away, looking anxious.

_StarClan, _she thought. _What do I do now?_

**AN: I think I'm actually making Northy and Silver more shippy now that they can't be together. What is wrong with me, honestly?**

**Also, I'm wondering if you guys dislike these ANs at the very end? When I read back, I find that they're really kind of random, and although they do sometimes contain important tidbits of info, they're also kind of a strange contrast to the content in the story. Should I discontinue them? ^^;**

**Wow, this one really did take over a week to write. I've just been uber busy lately, and we have a virus on our computer (that is in hiding now, lurking and waiting to strike again).**


	52. C h a p t e r 51: Nightshade & ?

**AN: Ooo, mystery guest?**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**51: Nightshade & ?**

She blinked nervously, slowly, staring down at her white paws. Beside her, she felt her Master touch her flank gently with his pelt.

"You aren't still mad, pet, are you?" he crooned in her ear. "I told you, she was supposed to be a surprise. If everything had gone to plan, she would be just like you; good, saved. I was just worried that she would be a bad influence on you; that's why I did it."

Nightshade moved to press her nose against his fur, drinking in his scent.

"I know," she said quietly. "I'm not angry with you. I'm just…thinking, is all."

"About?"

She looked away from his one bright eye, staring into the charred forest; no one had realized what a state the forest would be in when they'd arrived; it was one fact that Toxin had failed to mention. One of many. She was in hot water with Lion; it was no wonder the silver tabby seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

But Nightshade wasn't worried about her; she wasn't even worried about Minnow. No, that wasn't quite true; her worry about Minnow's fate gnawed at her every day, but today it was just in the background, another burden for her to carry as best she could, like all the others.

Her worry was completely different, something completely terrifying to the calico she-cat. There was something wrong inside of her, something she didn't understand, although she had an inkling of an idea as to why her sides were swelling, as she was getting bigger and bigger…she didn't know how much Blight knew. Perhaps he only thought she was getting fat; she'd certainly been slower lately, even with his vigorous training. She'd tried to reassure herself that was all it was, for in some twisted way being overweight would have been more comforting than this terrifying confusion and foreboding.

She felt a flutter in her stomach, and it was all she could do not to reach down and lick it, but she knew she would feel the lumps against her tongue, the foreign creatures within her. And even as she felt a small rush of affection for them, her little gifts, she was still scared. This wasn't how it was supposed to be; she was supposed to have a mother or a friend with her, someone to help and understand what she was going through, but there was no one…there was always no one, really, because in the end Nightshade drove them all away, alive or dead.

She closed her eyes, and felt Blight's touch against her pelt. A moon ago, she would have told him; she knew it instinctively. She knew that she would have told him without a moment's thought for what their shared gifts might mean. But now, after what he had done to Minnow…now she wasn't so sure. Now she was confused, anxious. Terrified.

She sighed quietly, and felt Blight rasp his tongue against her ear.

"Pet," he said quietly, but there was a growl to his voice now.

"I'm not angry," she said softly.

"You already said that. What are you thinking about."

She blinked; she felt so disconnected from him, so distant; it was like everything, even his touch, was happening to another cat. When she opened her eyes, she saw nothing, just the charred forest that was meaningless, useless. Was this what Lion was risking his cats for? A wasteland? To what end? How was dying on the battlefield for a cat like Lion any better than being with StarClan?

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she felt ashamed. Her ears flattened.

_You're being stupid, _she thought. _You're reverting, just as you feared. Perhaps Blight can't even save you. Perhaps you're beyond saving. Perhaps you're hopeless. Useless._

She flinched, burying her muzzle between her paws.

"Pet," Blight meowed, sounding exasperated. "Look at me."

She felt him move his paw between hers, slowly pulling her muzzle upwards until she was forced to blink into his single eye. "I love you," he said. "I lost an eye for you, remember? You can't believe I don't care for you. I saved you. I love you, pet."

She felt the slight prickle of warmth returning as she gazed into his eye. He pulled her closer with one paw, and she snuggled against his gray striped fur, letting out a quiet sigh of comfort.

"Don't you worry about a thing, pet," he whispered to her, his breath tickling her ear. "I'll protect you from anything and everything, okay? Don't you worry. I know how you feel, pet. I know what it is like, to feel like you are powerless, a nobody…I used to be like you. When I was young, our Clan was just starting out, and we weren't used to the Clan names. I was named Ratkit, for my gray fur and runty appearance…." He wrinkled his nose. "Ratkit, honestly, can you think of a worse name?"

Her whiskers twitched despite herself. _I won't name one of them Rat, _she promised, feeling her stomach flutter gently.

"I was a nobody in the Clan; I grew more than my mother expected, I became strong, but it didn't matter. I wasn't the fastest or strongest…I was the smartest, but few cared about that. And then…." His eye gleamed with excitement. "Then came the war, with Northstar as our leader, and I was finally able to show my true power when I won the final battle against ShellClan, crippling them so that they were forced to bow before us. Finally, I was important to the Clan! Finally, I was a somebody! And from there on, everything seemed to happen so quickly….Before I knew it, I was one of Northstar's elite, and I learned of his father's plan, handed down to him…Frozenstar was a cunning cat, you see, and he hated she-cats…there was a rumor about his daughter, but anyone that spoke of her was quickly silenced. He hated she-cats being outside his control, and so he developed the method for saving them…as I did to you." His single eye blazed brightly, seeming to illuminate his entire face. "Northstar wasn't interested, he has his own manipulative skills, but Slaughter…Slaughter was very, very interested. And together we developed the method, perfected it if you will…." He smiled. "And now I have you, my beautiful Nightshade. And now I have this opportunity to strike down the last of the Clans once and for all…and then you and I can be together, just the two of us, simply together." He pressed his nose into her fur, breathing in her scent as she breathed in his. Nightshade felt almost dizzy as happiness rose within her; everything was okay, Blight felt the same way. They could be together and everything would be just fine.

"All my life, we've been leading up to this moment," he purred in her ear, and she marveled at how the moonlight seemed to glow over his fur. "Tomorrow, we'll go down in TalonClan history. Just the two of us."

. . .

She awoke to his gentle nuzzles; she forced herself to her paws, yawning, glancing around to see that Blight was already waking up the rest of the warriors that Lion had assigned to him. Her heart swelled with pride as she watched him call his force together; to think that an ignored, underestimated cat could develop into this fierce tom; perhaps there was hope for her as well.

_So long as I have him to help me, I can do anything, _she thought. _I can be good._

She hesitated, only for the briefest of moments; there was a slight opening here, where she could tell him everything, everything that was going on inside of her. But something held her back, a tiny inkling; it wasn't the right moment, not now that they were heading off into battle. He might try to force her to stay behind, and she couldn't lie around while he fought for his life and their future.

He flicked his tail, his eye sweeping over his gathered cats. "TalonClan, today we strike a great blow against the evil of these traitors," he growled. "Today, we shall finally complete our conquest of the forest!"

His cats roared behind them, giving their assent, and Blight glanced towards her with a low purr. "Let's go."

They tore through the forest together, the entire group moving as one, muscles rippling under pelts as they weaved their way through the charred forest. Nightshade raced right alongside her Master, her stride matching his, until Blight held up his tail to signal everyone to stop. She did so half a second too late; her bulk made stopping immediately nearly impossible, and as such her face came through the brush. Her eyes widened, and she quickly backpedaled at what lay before her.

It was a group of cats, a very large group, all snarling and bristling, claws already unsheathed and glinting. At the forefront was a gray tom with yellow eyes; there was a coldness to them that made her shiver.

Blight let out a growl, and for a moment she thought he was angry with her spoiling their coming, but his eye flashed with hatred as he looked at the gray tom.

Blight strode forward, fangs bared.

"Blight," the tom said coolly; he glanced at Nightshade, but his expression did not change.

"Eaglestrike," Blight spat. "Toxin told us you managed to find your flea-bitten friends again. What did you do with her, when you found her spying on you? Kill her?"

Surprise flitted over Eaglestrike's face, vanishing quickly, but Blight's eye gleamed as he spotted it. "You didn't know she was here at all, did you?" he guessed, and a grin crept over his muzzle. "Toxin always was too smart and sneaky to be captured.

_Then where is she? _Nightshade wondered, but Toxin's whereabouts were not their problem right then.

"I think you know there is only one way this can end," Eaglestrike growled quietly. "However, Silverstar is not without mercy."

Blight's muzzle curled. "Cowardice is more like it," he retorted.

Eaglestrike's eyes flashed dangerously. "Do not speak badly of her in front of me."

Blight smirked. "Let me guess; if we leave now, there doesn't have to be a battle? Typical Silverstreak, although from her name I gather that StarClan gave her nine lives. Good for her, that ugly flea-bitten vixen."

A feral snarl tore itself from Eaglestrike's chest, and it was obvious that he was just as eager to fight as Blight. The two of them stared each other down, sparks of fury crackling between them, so fiercely that Nightshade could have sworn the very air smelled singed.

She couldn't see who had moved first, her side or theirs, but suddenly both sides raced forward, colliding like colossal tidal waves. The battle seemed to explode around her, buffeting her ears with yowls of fury and pain as enemies struck each other with glinting claws.

She shrank back for a moment, bewildered, her ears flat against her head; she felt powerless, like she had been in the tunnels, gripped by the strange, echoing voices that she could dimly remember…but, then, she realized that blight had vanished from her sight, and panic rose within her.

_Blight! _She thought. _I can't lose another cat. I can't be responsible for another death. Never again!_

She charged into the fray as quickly as she could, feeling the familiar fire of anger kindling in her chest; this time it wasn't a raging wildfire, as it had been when she saw Blight with Swansong; it was controllable, and as she leaped at her first opponent, she used it to her advantage; she had the tom by the throat in moments. He stared up at her with wide eyes, and for a moment the two of them were frozen; he was at her mercy.

_He's evil, _she thought dully. _He's evil because he follows StarClan, like all of them__…__right? _

She stared down at him, and saw the fear in his round yellow eyes, as well as the resoluteness behind that fear. He was a warrior, born and bred; from the age of six moons he had been told that his sole purpose was to fight and die for his Clan. Mortality came easily to these cats; after all, there were always the stars beyond. For warriors, there was no end; they simply moved on to a different place, a better place.

_An evil place, _Nightshade thought, but now that she was not in the grip of the wild rage that had caused her to murder Swansong and the others, she found the idea of taking his life repellent.

She dug her claws into his shoulder, but he did not flinch; then, closing her eyes, she bit down into his flesh, filling his coppery blood fill her mouth.

He let out a snarl of pain as she buried her fangs into his shoulder; she quickly released him, and he staggered to his paws, his fur already becoming wet with his own blood. She spat, clearing her mouth, and for a moment he stared at her; he could not fight now with a shoulder injured in this way. Then, he turned away, fleeing into the burnt forest; she turned her head to watch him go, her heart sinking in her chest.

_I should have killed him, _she thought._ Blight would have killed him._

_But Blight also hurt Minnow, _a quiet voice said in the back of her mind, almost completely buried; it sounded familiar. _Perhaps he isn't always right, _the voice continued. Nightshade shook her head, trying to clear her mind; the battlefield was not the place for these sorts of thoughts.

_Blight, _she thought. _I have to find Blight. I have to make sure he's safe. I can't lose anyone else. Robin, Phoenix, Minnow__…__I lost them all, one way or another. I can't lose Blight. He's my Master. He's all I have left._

She raced forward once more, tearing through the crowd, scoring blows when she could, but fighting was not her objective. All she wanted was to reach Blight, to reach his side.

She saw him just as he finished off a tom, a large ginger tabby with amber eyes whose glow faded as his blood pooled around him. Blight turned towards her, his single eye bright with bloodlust, and she shrank back fearfully; she'd seen that look before, in their training battles, when he'd rained blows down upon her until she could hardly think.

Then, his gaze seemed to clear; he gave a final glance down at the ginger tom, who was rattling for breath, before he reached out a paw to come towards her.

It happened before Nightshade could even blink; the ginger tom's paw shot forward, even as he laid on his side with a gurgling sound coming from his throat and his fur matted with crimson, still trying to fight. Blight evaded the strike easily, and swiftly turned to sink his claws into the tom's throat again. The tom let out a rasp of pain, before the amber light in his eyes died completely.

Blight padded towards her swiftly, and the fear left her as she saw his gaze was bright and clear.

"I was worried about you, pet," he said. "I thought you had gotten into trouble."

"I just lost you, is all," Nightshade said quietly. Blight touched her shoulder with his nose.

"It won't happen again," he meowed, and his gaze was almost tender as he stared at her. "I'll keep you safe."

A feral snarl made Nightshade turn, and she saw a silver-gray tabby staring at the still ginger tom with horror.

"Brightfire," she whispered, then hissed his name furiously at the two of them. "Brightfire!"

"Ah, yes, Rainsplash. It seems Brightfire met an unfortunate end," Blight growled, his eye glinting with malice as he bristled, preparing for battle once more. But it was not Blight that Rainsplash lunged for.

Nightshade found herself on her back before she could even think of moving, as Rainsplash stared down at her with hate glowing in her eyes.

"Don't!" Nightshade yowled, but she wasn't yowling out of fear; she was yowling at Blight, telling him to wait. She could handle this herself.

Rainsplash's eyes glittered with the madness born of loss; Nightshade knew it all too well. "I'm going to kill you, just like he killed Brightfire!"

Nightshade let out a hiss, her familiar anger licking through her veins, her fire which she could hide behind, leaving her weak conscience and squeamishness behind to grapple with the evil of StarClan and their followers. "You can try."

Rainsplash raised her paw to tear into Nightshade's delicate stomach, but Nightshade knew without thinking that the silver tabby could not be allowed to harm what Nightshade carried within her. A feral sound tore itself from her throat, as the rage of hundreds of thousands of mothers before her raced through her body, the one gift a mother gave her to her kits, that fierce flame that only the certainty of knowing that her kits were safe could quench. She kicked upward, throwing the tabby off of her, and springing onto her. With claws that felt as though they were charged with lightning, she tore through Rainsplash's sleek fur, piercing her flesh, hearing the pain vibrate through Rainsplash's body. Immeasurable hatred burned in Rainsplash's eyes as her claws struck Nightshade in return, but Nightshade didn't care, caught up in the throes of her maternal instincts; every part of her body was crying out for Rainsplash's blood, as the desire to protect her kits and mate coursed through her.

"If you kill me, what then?" she snarled. "You'll try to kill Blight, and every other cat here for your revenge. You'll never stop!"

"And Lion will?" Rainsplash demanded, her voice choked, whether from pain or grief Nightshade couldn't tell. "Do you really think that Lion will stop with Silverstar? He'll kill everyone he has to, and he feels as though he must kill everyone. Do you really think Blight will be safe?"

The question didn't even sink into Nightshade's mind; she was consumed, devoured by the fire. She could feel Rainsplash tensing underneath her, and knew that she had to end it quickly, all in one moment, before Rainsplash had the chance to hurt her again. For a single moment, Rainsplash's and Nightshade's eyes met; Nightshade thought she saw a flicker of fear in the tabby's gaze, before Nightshade's fangs were plunging downwards of their own accord, plunging into Rainsplash's throat. She felt Rainsplash's heartbeat In her mouth, and blindly she bit down, blood seeming to explode In her jaws. She heard Rainsplash give an indescribable gurgle of pain and anguish – physical pain as well as the pain of knowing that she had failed to avenge her brother – but she did not pull away, did not release her. Nightshade's jaws seemed locked in place, even as she felt Rainsplash's heartbeat slow and slow, until it stopped entirely. And still she hung on, clutching the she-cat as one might clutch a branch when drowning in a river, clinging to it for safety. She was afraid that if she let go, the fire would leave, and she would be left to grapple with the knowledge of what she had done; she had killed again, killed a cat that had just seen her brother die before her eyes.

She felt strong jaws around her own throat, and she panicked as she was jerked backwards, her teeth yanked from Rainsplash's body.

"Pet," Blight whispered in her ear, and she relaxed slightly, knowing that she was safe. She felt his touch against her back, and turned to press her face into his fur; just as she'd feared, the fire seemed to leak out of her, leaving her feeling hollow, terrified.

"Pet," he whispered again. "You were amazing."

She blinked; those were not the words she expected to hear. Hadn't he seen what she had just done? Hadn't he seen her tear out the life of another breathing, feeling cat?

She looked up to see that his single eye was glowing. "You're everything Frozenstar hoped for, when he thought of our program," he meowed. "You're unstoppable, and completely loyal. You're beautiful, pet. You're perfect."

She felt a rush of warmth push past the numbness, and she smiled at him uncertainly; to her surprise, he smiled, white fangs glinting.

"Let's win this battle."

. . .

They plunged into the fray together, working as a seamless machine; dodging, striking, falling back only to slash out again; they moved in perfect sync, neither stepping behind or in front of the other, both of them working together to trap and shred their enemy. Nightshade felt as if she wasn't even in control of her body anymore; she was simply sitting back to watch, seeing her claws tearing into her enemies almost without thought. They killed few; it wasn't necessary. As long as their enemies were too wounded to fight back, they were done; killing took more valuable energy, and the warriors never deserted their injured. If this battle did not end decisively, the warriors would tax themselves by gathering and tending to their wounded, instead of being smart and tending to those who could still fight.

But, slowly, the tide of battle was causing them to drift apart; no matter how hard they tried to stay together, it seemed like their opponents were always trying to get between them, to attempt to break their connection. For a moment, Nightshade lost sight of Blight entirely.

Fear rose within her, and she crouched, preparing to spring over the cat nearest her to rejoin him.

The attack happened suddenly, too suddenly for her to have anticipated it; one moment she was coiling her muscles to leap, the next she was on her back, her body crying out from the impact. And then, she was gaping up at her attacker soundlessly, staring into his golden eyes.

_Familiar golden eyes, _she thought, _but__…__could it be__…__?_

"Belladonna?" he whispered, and his eyes widened as he stared down at her. "No…it couldn't be…Belladonna? Is that really you?"

"Buck?" she whispered with disbelief. _How could he be here? Now? In the middle of all this__…__?_

"Oh, StarClan, it really is you!" he gasped. "Belladonna, I was looking for you everywhere!"

She was reeling inside; her name – her old name – seemed to pound through her skull, bouncing around her brain. _Belladonna…he doesn't know my new name…he doesn't know anything, anything about this…._

And like a door had been opened, the memories were suddenly surging forward, rushing to her – _she was tiny, sampling real food for the first time, some sort of greasy bird that Mother had ordered on the phone; she was blinking into the face of another kit, a ginger kit, and slowly the two of them smiled, and she somehow _knew _that this kit was special, that the two of them would be something; she was curled up on Mother's lap, listening to her gentle crooning; she was fighting alongside Robin, driving away a scarred tom who leered at them, lust glittering in his eyes; she was grooming Robin's fur, working her paws through the tangles and finding the ticks; she was dreaming strange dreams, of a wide-open forest, catching prey and driving away enemies; she was curled up next to Mother's cooling body, feeling immeasurable sorrow rising within her as she knew she'd never heard her sweet Mother's voice again; she was watching Buck pad away, knowing that she might regret her decision…. – _and it felt as though her skull would explode. She closed her eyes, trying to force them away, but they kept surging forward, bringing with them names and images of faces – _old Timber, his brown face scarred but his green eyes still bright; nervous Mr. Spots, with his handsome black and white coat and trembling legs; tiny dappled Sparrow, with glinting amber eyes; fox-faced Ginger, with her always-present scowl; dark Midnight, with her nervous whisker-twitch; blue-eyed Thimble, as sorrowful as she'd last seen him; wild-furred Kinks, always full of mad plans that usually ended badly; fat Queenie, who always seemed to have a belly full of kits, each and every one of which Mother had cherished; Robin, oh _Robin, _her best friend in the world, her companion, the only cat she ever completely trusted – _on and on, all seventy-six of them, until Nightshade felt as though she was drowning in her own memories. They felt different, completely at odds with her memories as Nightshade; Nightshade's memories seemed painfully sharp, edged, dangerous, whereas her memories as Belladonna were all soft, gentle. All except….

_Let me out of here! _Her voice rang so loudly that she was certain she had spoken aloud, although Buck's expression hadn't changed. _I'll rip your muzzle off, I swear to the stars. Let us go!_

The voice sounded like hers, but how could it be? For, if she remembered correctly, she had been speaking to Blight, her Master. Had she truly shouted at him? Had she actually questioned the Master, who had only wanted to save her?

_He wanted to save Minnow, too, _she thought, _and his side-kick tried saving Robin…but he killed her….I don't understand…._

"Belladonna?" Buck's voice was tight with anxiety. "Did I hurt you?" His weight was quickly removed from her chest, and he was staring at her anxiously.

She sprang to her paws, bristling, feeling dangerous and confused. "Stop saying that!" she spat. "That's not my name?"

He blinked with confusion. "What?"

"My name is Nightshade now," she hissed. "Belladonna is dead! I left her behind!"

Buck was staring at her now, his eyes wide, as if seeing her for the first time. She could see his eyes tracing over her pelt, examining each and every scar, the wild fire in her eyes, her bared fangs. She suddenly felt deeply ashamed, although she didn't understand why, and her bristling fur flattened almost by itself.

"Belladonna," he said gently. "You're on their side now, aren't you? What happened to you?"

"My name isn't Belladonna," she said again, but her voice was weaker now, as Belladonna's soft, cozy memories threatened to overwhelm Nightshade. "My name…."

Buck reached out to touch her gently with his tail, but she flinched away from his touch. "Belladonna," he said softly, and when he said the name the memories seemed to rise up again, trying to drown her. "Please. I won't hurt you. I can help you. We can undo whatever happened, okay?" His golden eyes were gentle. "Just—"

His words were cut off by a fierce snarl. Nightshade watched in horror as a gray streak smashed into Buck's side, knocking the muscular tom over.

"Blight!" she screamed, as he dug his claws into Buck's fur. Buck shot Nightshade a disbelieving look.

"Belladonna?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

Blight snarled again. "Don't call her by that name. That is not who she is. She is Nightshade, my mate!"

Buck's eyes flashed in realization. "You did this to her. You…you brainwashed her! You're the reason she can't even look at me now! What did you do?"

"I _saved _her!" Blight roared, and Nightshade screamed again as he struck, aiming his fangs at Buck's neck.

Buck gave a powerful kick, sending Blight flying into the air. He was winded, scrambling to his paws, but Buck was already approaching him, springing at him with claws outstretched.

"Blight!" Nightshade screeched again, but it was as if she was frozen, as if her legs were rooted to the ground; she could only watched as Buck lunged again and again, unable to move quickly enough to catch Blight; Blight circled him like prey, unable to move in closer without being struck; he managed to score several glancing blows down Buck's side, but it wasn't enough to bring the large tom down. The two began to fight in earnest, savage snarls and grunts creating a barrage of sounds that buffeted Nightshade's ears like a windstorm. She shrank to the ground, terrified and transfixed, her eyes pressed against the dirt as she watched them tear at one another.

Blight was fast, too fast, but Buck was too strong. Neither of them could win without a decisive blow, and neither could allow the other to get close enough to get one. Buck kept trying to get on Blight's blind side, knowing that there he could make the final blow, but Blight was too focused and fast to allow the larger tom to get close enough.

The memories continued to batter Nightshade, sharp and soft alike vying for position in her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to shut them out, trying to claim control over her mind and body. But control was something that she'd lacked, perhaps from the very beginning, and it was well outside her grasp now.

"Stop!" she yowled as her eyes sprung open as much to her mind as to the two toms fighting. She saw Blight glance at her for a second, only a split second, his single yellow eye wide. And she felt her heart clench as she realized her mistake, realized what she had just cost her Master.

"No!" she cried, but it was already too late; that split second of hesitation was all that Buck needed. He moved to the side, where Blight could not see him, and just as Blight lashed out blindly with his claws and started to turn, Buck struck.

He pinned Blight to the ground with his massive paws, burying his fangs into Blight's neck before Blight could even make a sound. Nightshade's heart seemed to splinter in her chest, and she let out a wordless cry, her paws already propelling her forward.

She slammed into Buck's side, and it was running into a mighty oak, but it was enough to tear Buck away from Blight. She stared down at her fallen master, watching the blood bubble up from the horrible wound, watching as it soaked into his dark gray fur.

"Master," she whispered. "No, Master, please…please don't leave me…."

Blight struggled for breath, gurgling in his throat. He croaked, trying to form words. "Pet," he whispered, and she saw true tenderness glinting in his single eye. "Pet," he whispered again, but the glow in his eye was fading now, fading like a dying ember.

"No," she whimpered, pressing her nose into his fur. "No, no please…don't leave me, Master. I need you, I need you to save me, I need you to keep me good…please…."

Her Master's breath rattled away, and his eye became glazed, staring sightlessly into the cloudy sky. Sorrow like nothing she had ever felt before roared into her mind; for a single moment she was deaf, blind, mute, as helpless as a newborn kitten.

Then, she felt a gentle warmth against her side, and her gaze slowly rose to meet Buck's.

"Belladonna," he murmured, drawing her closer to him with one paw; she trembled against his side, her entire body shaking. "Don't worry, Belladonna. You're safe now, okay? I'll make sure you get the help you need. I'll take care of this."

She blinked up at him, wanting nothing more than to trust him, this strange tom that she had hardly known, even though she had grown up with him. He had always just been another cat, one of many, but the tenderness in his eyes now made her truly see….

She felt a small glow, a tiny bit of warmth, kindle in her shattered heart; she didn't know where the pieces were anymore, didn't know how she could even attempt to hold onto herself, but it didn't matter, not as long as Buck would take care of her.

"I…."

Then, pain tore through her, rippling through her stomach and abdomen. She doubled over in pain, letting out a hiss through clenched teeth.

"Belladonna? What's wrong?"

She stumbled away from him, gritting her fangs together.

_No, _she thought, realizing with horror what was happening, as she stared at Blight's body. _No. Not them. Not now…._

"Belladonna? Belladonna, are you alright? Belladonna?"

She turned away from him, her heart pounding in her chest as her stomach fluttered. The stress, the fear, the pain…it was all too soon, too fast. She was overwhelmed, she was lost, she didn't know what to do.

She gave Buck one last terrified look. And then she ran.

**. ? ? ? .**

As the pain rippled through her stomach, as she charged through the battlefield, dodging enemies on both sides, she realized that somehow she had lost track of who she was. Was she gentle Belladonna, with the memories of Robin and the feeling of warmth from Buck? Was she Nightshade, full of sharp edges, devoted to her fallen Master? She didn't know, she couldn't tell, she couldn't separate them anymore. They had blurred together into one cat, one single entity, and the line blurred more with every pounding pawstep.

She raced away from the battlefield, floundering into the forest, tripping over branches and twigs until she finally fell and could not get up again, as her broken body finally reached its limit. And as the rippling pain ran through her again, she ground her jaw together, muffling the yowl that ripped out of her throat.

She tried to get up, but her legs collapsed beneath her; she was forced to accept the fact that she wasn't going anywhere…and this was happening now.

She couldn't hold the scream back during the next wave of pain; she had to shove her muzzle into the dirt to muffle the sound. If anyone found her, even the cats who were on her side….She wasn't sure what would happen when Blight wasn't around.

_Blight, _she thought, and a new wave of pain washed over her, although it had nothing to do with her physical condition. _Master, _she thought, but her mind was confused; was he her master? The rising Belladonna half didn't want him to be, hated him. But the sharp Nightshade half…that half of her loved her Master more than anything else.

Her thoughts were cut off as the pain rushed through her body again; she let out another gasp of pain, her sides heaving.

After that, she lost all track of time it was just wave after wave after wave of pain. And then—

She let out a shriek, and where it not for the dirt pressed against her mouth, it would have echoed over the entire forest. Bright lights – stars? – danced behind her eyelids. She pushed as hard as she could, and felt something give, felt something move, felt something _leave._

She turned her head, staring at the tiny, wet, bloody lump had had been in her body for so long. Slowly, she pulled it towards her with one paw, rasping over tongue over its sticky fur, even as another ripple of pain ran through her body. The kit let out a feeble mewl and, exhausted, her muzzle dropped to the earth as her eyes closed.

The stars came twice more, and then, with a final heave, her last kit was born. As she had with the other two, she licked the kit to life, trusting its instincts to guide it to her stomach. She tried raising her head to make sure her kits were safe, but she felt completely drained. Before she was aware that she had lost control, her muzzle thudded to the ground, and her eyes closed.

She wasn't sure how long her eyes remained closed; when she opened them, she realized she hadn't thought to look at the sun and track the time. Either way, she couldn't stay here now.

She turned her head, staring at her three kits, but she wasn't really seeing them; she was seeing Blight and Buck, both staring at her with gentle eyes, and her own eyes closed for another moment, before she forced herself to her paws.

Her kits cried out weakly in protest, one rolling to the side, but she ignored them. These kits were all she had left of Blight now, and Nightshade loved them, but Belladonna…she didn't know how Belladonna felt. She didn't know how _she _felt.

_I've got to…._she thought, but what did she have to do? Nightshade would charge into battle to take revenge for Blight's death. Belladonna would take care of her kits, even if she wasn't sure that she wanted to; Belladonna would try to right what she'd done wrong. But what did _she _need to do? What did she _want _to do?

Her eyes closed, as the two halves of herself raged against one another, neither able to defeat the other; she was split, torn in two, hopelessly confused…lost.

Her kits mewled pitifully below her, crying out for their mother and her milk, but it was as if her ears were made of stone, as if she was locked in place, staring straight ahead of her.

Then, slowly, she began padding forward, pushing through the burnt brush, following the scent of blood. She stopped, eyes widening; there were no cats standing on the battlefield, only the fallen and bloody. The battle had been pushed back farther, deeper into the forest; she scented the air and smelled Twolegplace cats. Cane and Amber, the ones that the dappled she-cat had warned them about?

_We're losing, _she thought, dimly aware that she still associated herself with PeakClan. _We need every cat._

Slowly, she padded forward; then, she broke into a run, following the tangled scents, growing more and more powerful in her nose, until the cries of battle reached her ears once more. She stopped, trapped in place again as the terror of battle washed over her. Then, steeling herself, she broke into another run, pausing as she realized she was at the top of a slope; below her was the battle, a mass of twisting snarling cats, bloodlust filling their eyes as they tore at one another. She swayed unsteadily on her paws, knowing that her hindquarters were drenched with blood; she couldn't be fighting, not now, not after giving birth to kits much too soon, kits that wouldn't survive long without a mother to nurture them.

Then, her eyes widened as she caught sight of a flash of silver fur, the glint of green eyes, and she was suddenly running again, charging down the slope, weaving through the tangled masses with almost practiced ease.

The silver cat had her back to her now, but her heart was pounding in her chest; it had to be her, it had to be. If it was her, everything would be alright; everything would fall into place.

"Minnow!" she cried, and the silver cat's face turned towards her, eyes widening in recognition, only to let out a snarl of pain as the cat she was fighting knocked her down.

She charged forward, anger crackling over her pelt like flames, plowing into the enemies side and knocking him over. He scrambled to his paws, fear and confusion in his eyes as he stared at her, wondering who this blood-drenched she-cat was. She spat at him, eyes flashing, but she didn't need to; another cat, on whose side she wasn't sure, knocked the tom off of his paws, distracting him.

She quickly turned, and saw that Minnow was staring at her, green eyes wide with surprise and something else that she couldn't quite read.

"Belladonna?"she whispered, and it was as if the world suddenly righted itself, so quickly that she was almost thrown to the ground. Her name, so simple when spoken by this young she-cat, seemed clearer than ever before.

Maybe she wasn't Belladonna anymore. But she wasn't Nightshade, either; Nightshade didn't belong inside of her. Nightshade wasn't the cat she wanted to carry. Belladonna's memories were full of love, safety, community; all Nightshade remembered was pain and fear.

"Minnow," she said quietly, and Minnow padded forward, pressing her nose into her knotted fur. She rested her muzzle on Minnow's head, rejoicing for a single sweet moment at the knowledge that Minnow was alright, was alive, was with her.

_I didn't lose Minnow, _she thought. _Robin, Phoenix, maybe even Blight…I lost them all. But Minnow is here. Minnow is safe. Minnow is _alive…_because of me. With Minnow, I wasn't responsible for her death. I saved her life._

"What happened to you?" Minnow asked. But she shook her head; there wasn't time to talk, wasn't time to explain everything. She had a choice to make, a mission to undertake, and there was precious little time.

"Please," she said softly, "I need you to listen. In the forest, nearby, there are three kits. Their mother is nowhere to be found. She might not be coming back. If she doesn't…please, I need you to take care of them. Find them someone who can nurse them. Raise them as your own." Her eyes locked with Minnow, and she knew she didn't have to explain who the kits' mother was.

"Belladonna," Minnow whispered again, her eyes wide with sorrow. "What are you going to do?"

She swallowed; the decision was still there, waiting. There were two paths she could take now; one for Belladonna, one for Nightshade.

_I don't want to know only pain and fear anymore._

She reached forward to touch Minnow's shoulder with her nose. "You really are my friend, Minnow. Please, no matter what happens, know that."

Minnow's green eyes were glittering with pain, but she swallowed, straightening up slightly, and for the first time she truly saw that Minnow was not just some young cat with abandonment issues. She was a strong cat in her own way, even if her way wasn't as fierce as Nightshade's had been, or as spirited as Belladonna's.

She touched Minnow again with her nose, before turning her head; they were only on the fringes of the battle now. The Twolegplace cats were still pushing forward, trying to crush Lion's cats between themselves and the Clan cats; they were probably doing the same on the other side. If she wanted to do anything, she would have to hurry.

With a last nod to Minnow, she broke into another run, dashing forward as quickly as she could. Her muscles were already screaming, screeching for release, but she pushed past the pain, falling into what almost felt like a dreamy haze. It wouldn't matter soon, how much her body ached. All that mattered was that Minnow would take care of her kits, and she would make her choice.

Then, after several minutes of running, she saw them; or rather, she saw him. Lion, in all of his golden, scarlet-splashed glory. He was standing over something, or someone; the cat was almost unrecognizable from the blood coating her fur, but she had heard enough of the legendary Silverstar to know who it was that Lion had defeated.

Or had he? One of Silverstar's paws twitched as she approached; the she-cat was clearly still not dead, even though she should be. Did Silverstar really have nine lives?

It didn't matter. Lion would be ready to kill her again and again, until Silverstar didn't move again.

She stopped, staring at the two of them, fear rising within her as she realized that she had to face her choice now. One way or another, she wasn't walking away from this unscathed. Even if she fled from the entire battle and raced back to her kits, the scars could never truly disappear.

Her gaze hardened. _I'm ready, _she thought. _This is what everything's been leading up to, ever since Mother's death. This is my destiny. This is what I was brought here to face. It's simple, really, only one question. Nightshade, or Belladonna?_

She swallowed; the choice had already been made, she knew that. She'd already made it.

Slowly, she crouched, tensing to spring, letting out a final breath, allowing the fear to leak out of her body.

Then, she leaped.

**AN: Because every character needs a bit of grayness, even if it's on the fringe. Even Blight.**

**Also, cookies for everyone who guessed that our gal was preggers. I really am that cruel, it seems. Should I feel like a terrible person? Because I totally don't. xD**

**While I was writing this chapter, the song "Shattered" by O.A.R came on. I lol'd; both the song and story title fit Nightshade more than anyone, really. Also, all the cats that Nightshade remembered were the cats included in her very first chapter; I'm pretty sure I got all of 'em, although I might have missed one somewhere in there.  
Also, have you guys been advertising, or something? I've gotten a ton more visitors for these last few chapters than before. I'm definitely not complaining, but it's interesting. xD**

**Also (again), I'm curious if you guys would be interested in a sort of before-and-after thing, comparing/contrasting original role-play and this story? I think it's interesting just how much I changed for this story, and my****…****questionable plots. So****…****?**


	53. C h a p t e r 52

**AN: Silverstar's battle is pretty much right alongside Nightshade's. I think Nightshade's might have started a little early, though, Blight's kinda overeager. Isn't he just adorable (seriously, some of you guys like him now? I guess I'm more convincing than I thought, which is slightly disturbing).**

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**52**

She swiped her tongue over her muzzle anxiously, feeling the eyes of the Clan on her pelt. She glanced at Stonestar, standing to her left, then Northstar on her right. Her stomach was tight with anxiety.

Any moment, Lion would appear in the Twoleg tunnel, or his cats would flood over the Thunderpath. There was no way to tell for sure what he had planned. She sighed quietly, glancing up at the sky; dawn had come and gone, and the sun was working its way into the sky, shining deceptively bright; it appeared that it was going to be a beautiful day, completely incongruous with the bloodshed that was going to take place.

She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. _Please, be with Eaglestrike now, and the cats he is leading, _she prayed. _Please be with us. Don't let me be leading my Clanmates to their deaths in a battle that we cannot win._

Behind her, she heard Tremor let out a quiet growl as he shifted his weight. Silverstar had brought the rogues back with her to camp the day before; she had lied to Stonestar and Northstar, saying that the rogues had spied on Lion and brought the news of his changing plans, not Toxin. There was too much riding on this battle to allow Northstar's decision to become compromised by his hatred for Toxin; she would tell him the truth after the battle, and deal with the consequences then.

She didn't know where Toxin had gone; perhaps back to TalonClan, or perhaps she had chosen to remain hidden for the time being and to let everything blow over. It didn't matter.

She resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder and blink at Tremor; he was a puzzling cat. He was very large, and initially seemed a bit aggressive towards the other males of the Clan, although he was courteous to her. Silverstar had noticed the same behavior in Jaggedclaw a few times, although he controlled himself more easily; it was probably part of the male rogue lifestyle. Still, he had warmed up to them with considerable speed, because of the necessity of their alliance; apparently Tremor's band of rogues had had trouble with TalonClan in the past, and he was eager to correct it.

Most of the band had gone with Eaglestrike's party; apparently Blight was leading Lion's other half of his cats, and it was Blight that Tremor's band hated. Tremor, however, had agreed to help Stonestar and Northstar hold Lion off as long as possible before Silverstar was forced to confront him. He was a far-seeing cat, wise in his own way, and he seemed to commend great loyalty from his followers. That was good enough for her.

His brother had also proved useful; apparently he had been trained by the same cat that was helping Shimmerpaw in her dreams, which was lucky; Silverstar wondered if Rumble was there to stay, considering that Sprig had seemed to think she wouldn't be needed for long.

She swallowed anxiously, realizing her thoughts were leaping ahead of her; she was practically vibrating with anxiety.

_Hiding here won't do much good, it isn't like we're taking them by surprise, _she thought, but somehow hiding felt safer than just standing around waiting for Lion to appear.

She glanced at Northstar again, noticing the tightness in his mouth; while she hadn't told him about Toxin, she had of course informed both him and Stonestar of TalonClan's apparent spy. Stonestar and Northstar had both instantly known who she was speaking of – a cat named Dapplefern, apparently – but evidently Dapplefern had taken off rather than be exposed as a traitor. They'd informed both AshClan and PeakClan that she was an enemy now, and if she chose to fight for TalonClan, Silverstar didn't like her odds.

Then, her eyes widened as the wind changed, blowing into her face; it carried with it the scent of TalonClan. She swallowed, her claws kneading the dirt; it was time.

The Thunderpath itself was hidden from view from the slope, but she could still see the tops of the monsters as they roared past; there was a brief lull, and she imagined Lion racing across.

Then, he appeared, standing at the top of the slope, staring down at the battlefield with burning amber eyes. She was chilled; he was large, easily as big as Northstar, if not bigger. She could see the muscles rippling over his pelt as he sized up the fighting terrain, and she was repulsed by the shreds that were the remnants of one ear.

_And even then, he was barely touched when he killed Slaughter, _she thought, and for a moment she was filled with a strange sense of awe; the sun seemed to burn as it touched his golden coat, and he looked like a true lion of legend, ready for battle, ready to tear down any enemy with a single strike.

Slowly, as one, Silverstar, Northstar, and Stonestar padded forwards. Lion's eyes flashed as he saw them, but he did not move; the scent of TalonClan grew stronger, and Silverstar knew his troops were just behind him, some on the Thunderpath, some on the slope, behind him just enough to remain invisible.

"Silverstar," Lion boomed, his voice echoing over the valley created by the Thunderpath. "Daughter of Fadedstar."

She met his gaze firmly, refusing to tremble; when she finally fought him in battle, he would be worn down, injured. She would not fear him.

She had told her Clan of the plan, of course, and Stonestar had told his own Clan of it as well; any cat that was unfortunate enough to cross Lion's path had been told to only strike if they could without being injured themselves, and to only fight against him for a few moments, lest they fall in battle. Silverstar would not let her Clanmates die for her, not against her enemy.

But she could not control Northstar. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, watching his inscrutable face as his golden gaze met Lion's. She didn't know what he was planning, if he would really sacrifice himself for PeakClan. She hoped that he wouldn't. She knew he might have to.

"I'm not going to back down, Lion, and neither are either of my Clans," she declared. She thought she saw the ghost of a smile twist his muzzle.

"No. You take after your father, of course; you're willing to sacrifice innocents to preserve yourself," he growled; she stiffened.

"My father did no such thing," she spat, but Lion had hit a nerve; she didn't want her Clanmates to die for her, or even for PeakClan warriors to perish, but her actions had caused this. PeakClan would not be at risk, if it hadn't been for her.

"Words are meaningless," Lion rumbled. "The battlefield is where the truth is settled."

Stonestar let out a yowl. "PeakClan is not afraid! PeakClan, attack!"

"AshClan!" Silverstar yowled, but there was no need; her loyal warriors were already surging forth, running alongside the PeakClan cats as if they had been born together, as if they were one Clan. Lion only let out a roar, as TalonClan surged forward, pouring down from the slope and through the pipe tunnel, onto the battlefield. And, like a lion of legend, their leader led the charge, pounding down the slope with pawsteps that sounded like rolling thunder.

"Go!" Stonestar growled at her, springing forward; she only had time to watch as he sprang at Lion, claws outstretched, before she felt Northstar shove her.

"Weave your way through the masses," he ordered, his voice seeming to vibrate through her pelt as he pushed her forwards. "Don't let Lion catch up; don't slow down. Step in if you feel you must, but don't allow yourself to be hurt. You'll need to keep fresh." He paused for a moment, then said more quietly, "I'll be with you as long as I can."

She nodded, taking off running, working her way through the yowling and thrashing cats as if they were simply trees in the forest, dodging leaping warriors and flailing claws. She felt Northstar's paws pound behind her, and she strained to hear Stonestar, but could not pick out a single voice above the din.

Her head turned, and her eyes narrowed as she saw Darkstorm facing off against two large warriors. He had grown stronger since his training had began, but he was still no match for two ruthless TalonClan cats.

She sprang forward, hearing Northstar growl behind her, tackling one of the toms away from Darkstorm. She heard him yelp in surprise as she slashed at the tabby underneath her with her thorn-sharp claws, before springing away. His eyes widened as Northstar appeared at her side, and with a whimper, looking as if he'd seen a ghost, the tom fled.

Northstar smirked, obviously pleased that he still had this effect with TalonClan cats, before glancing at Darkstorm, who was still battling the other cat.

"He can take care of it himself," Northstar growled, pushing her again. "Focus on the task at paw; protecting yourself."

She swallowed, not wanting to leave Darkstorm behind, but he was right; a warrior of AshClan had to fight his own battles.

She glanced over her shoulder, trying to spot Lion, but the massive tom was nowhere to be seen. Swallowing, she sprang forward once again, charging into the fray.

She could see only the blurred forms of her Clanmates as she ran, barely having time to glance at them before her paws carried her away; she saw Jaggedclaw without a scratch on his pelt, tearing into his enemies, Bramblethorn fighting side-by-side with young Rabbitleap, and later saw Darkstorm once again, fighting a white she-cat.

She wanted nothing more than to see how Forest was doing, facing his own enemies, but he was with Eaglestrike and Sandpelt, leading the force against Blight; Silverstar and Forest hadn't discussed it, but they had both known that if Forest had been on Silverstar's force, she would have been unable to keep charging through the battlefield as she was supposed to; she would have had to help him, and he would have had to help her, probably getting himself killed in the process.

_He's safe with Eaglestrike, _she told herself. _He has to be._

She heard Northstar let out a growl behind her, and turned to see a dark brown tom knock him to the ground.

"Go!" he ordered, slashing at the tom's stomach. "I'll catch up once I take care of this."

She hesitated for a split second, just long enough to see Northstar kick the tom off and then pin him down, tearing into his shoulder and belly, before she began running again, knowing that the white warrior could take care of himself.

Her blue eyes scanned the battlefield as she raced, hoping to see Stonestar; what had happened to him? She doubted Lion would have waited to take all nine of the gray leader's lives, but she couldn't be sure. Guilt squeezed her heart, imagining the leader bloody, lying on the ground, forgotten in the fray.

_I don't want these cats to die for me!_

She saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned, but she was half a second too slow; she found herself on her back, a silver face spitting down at her. The she-cat moved forwards quickly, biting down on her shoulder, although it didn't hurt as much as it should have.

"Just making this look convincing," the she-cat hissed, and Silverstar recognized the voice: Toxin. "These furballs won't look up to me if I don't at least attempt to get you," Toxin continued. "So another little scratch, and I'll be gone, and you can get back to whatever you're doing right now, running around like a mad cat."

She felt Toxin's claws prick her stomach, and flexed her legs, preparing to kick the silver she-cat away; she wouldn't lie her and act as if she wasn't trying to respond, it wouldn't look convincing for TalonClan. She wasn't sure she wanted Toxin to lead them when this was all over, but they had an agreement, and Toxin had managed to keep her part. Was it not for her, AshClan and PeakClan would have been completely unaware of Blight's attacking party.

Then, Toxin was roughly torn away from her, and Silverstar heard the tabby let out a yowl of pain. Silverstar sprang to her paws and turned, seeing Northstar on top of her, hatred gleaming in his golden eyes.

"Northstar!" Silverstar yowled, but she was too late; Northstar's jaws were already coming down, wrapping around Toxin's throat and biting down with crushing force. Silverstar watched the iciness leech out of Toxin's eyes, replaced with pure fear. The she-cat thrashed, but her blood was already seeping through her silver fur, marring it.

Silverstar sprang forward, trying to knock Northstar away, but he held firm; she could barely move him.

"Northstar!" she shouted again, and his golden gaze flitted to her. He released Toxin, and Silverstar thought that perhaps he had guessed why Silverstar was trying to stop him, but when she looked down at her niece, she saw that Toxin's blue eyes were already glazing over. Silverstar's ears flattened; Toxin was an evil cat, she knew that. The only reason she had been helping was to avenge her father, however twisted that was in itself. But she was Silverstar's kin, and when she died it would be alone an unlamented that she ascended into the Dark Forest.

Gently, Silverstar pressed her nose into Toxin's fur, offering her a scrap of comfort. She saw Toxin's glazing eyes slid towards her, before she let out a rattling breath and her eyes lost the last of their sharpness.

Silverstar turned slowly towards Northstar; he was staring at her, blatant confusion on his face.

"What is wrong with you?" he hissed, the confusion quickly turning to anger. "She was our enemy! She tried to kill the two of us, and Shimmerpaw and Rabbitpaw as well! Are you that soft, that you would begrudge me this small revenge?"

Silverstar's ears flattened. "She was our ally, in secret…I didn't speak because I knew you wouldn't trust her, and I thought she would keep out of the battle to make sure she was there when Lion fell, to lead TalonClan away…."

Her shoulders slumped. _I always make the wrong decisions…and when I do, someone is always hurt._

He stared at her. "Our ally?"

"She's the one who told us when Lion was coming, and that he had split his force in two," Silverstar answered. "In exchange, I promised to kill Lion, as revenge for Slaughter…she wanted Lion to die no matter what."

Northstar's gaze hardened. "Even if you had told us, I would have killed her," he growled. "She's too dangerous to lead a force like TalonClan, however fragile they will be after this battle. But if you want to keep your promise, you need to hurry. Come on."

He started to move away, but she did not, and he glanced at her again.

"You can't fight him now, it's too soon," he warned, seeing the glint in her eyes. She shook her head.

"The less cats that die on either side, the better," she meowed. "I need to finish this now. We have to kill him before other cats follow in Toxin's pawsteps."

Northstar's jaw ground together. "Don't let your sentiment get in the way of your choices. If you fail to kill him, then we're all dead anyway."

Silverstar's eyes narrowed. "You're the one who hasn't told Stonestar that you don't have nine lives; it sounds like sentiment is clouding your judgment as well," she shot back. "I've made my decision. If I die, so be it, but I know my Clan will never stop fighting. And if I die, at least I'll know I did as much as I could for my Clan, and I've got Eaglestrike to follow in my own pawsteps."

Northstar sighed quietly. "You're a fool," he growled, then turned his head slightly, scanning the battlefield. "But I suppose I cannot stop you."

The two of them began to run again, weaving through the battlefield and stepping over the fallen, looking for the gleam of Lion's golden pelt. Silverstar was shocked when she looked to the sky to see how much time had passed; the flow of the battle had made time seem as if it was going slower, but it was already sunhigh.

"Where is he?" she hissed, anxiety welling up inside of her. "How hard can a cat like that be to find?"

"We'll have to get his attention," Northstar growled quietly.

"How?" Silverstar asked, but he didn't answer; her gaze flitted over the battlefield once more, before landing on a single branch, hanging just over the edge of the clearing.

_An ash tree, _she thought, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She sprang forward, charging through the fray, not knowing if Northstar was following her but hoping that he wasn't; she didn't want him getting hurt now. This was her battle.

She flexed her muscles, springing into the branch. She threw her head back, letting out a yowl that seemed to ring over the clearing. For a moment, the battle seemed to freeze, the sounds dying away as the fighting cats trained their eyes on her, hundreds of eyes watching. Then, slowly, the heads turned, and she could see the battle moving, splitting in half, as Lion made his way through.

Her heart began thudding in her chest as he drew closer and closer, his scarred pelt and shredded ear visible. She could see Northstar racing forward, but Lion seemed to already be aware of his presence, for he let out a loud, wordless roar, and three cats suddenly sprang forwards to knock Northstar to the ground. Her heart clenched in fear, but there was nothing she could do; her opponent was already here.

"This ends now," Lion growled up at her, preparing to spring. She saw the muscles rippling under his pelt, and just as he leaped forward she did as well, soaring over him to land smoothly on the ground. He landed on the branch, and it snapped with a horrible sound, plummeting to the ground. He landed without a scratch, facing her. Behind her, the noises of the battle swelled once more, and her heart seemed to beat even more furiously; AshClan was fighting, she knew, and PeakClan too, to ensure that this battle with Lion would remain uninterrupted by his own Clan.

Lion was not like Northstar, she could see that immediately. He did not smirk, did not want her with cool eyes, did not plot the battle in his mind before each movement. Northstar had finesse, speed; Lion's pelt seemed to crackle with pure, raw power and boundless rage.

She could see the rage boiling in his eyes, and with a wordless snarl, he sprang at her.

The battle became a blur, a blur of noise and movements, of golden fur and burning eyes. This was nothing like the battle she'd had with Northstar; that had been almost a dance, in a strange way, two opponents testing one another, seeking weakness. Lion did not bother with such things, and that was why he was dangerous; his movements were unpredictable, completely erratic; his claws hungered for her flesh, his fangs for her blood, and he would sacrifice every part of his being to have it. Revenge, not life, was what mattered to him now.

Silverstar sprang to the side, narrowly avoiding his claws, and managed to strike his shoulder with her claws, but he seemed to almost shrug the blow off, his body scorched by adrenaline and rage.

He turned faster than she would have thought possible, knocking her to the ground, and she let out a cry of pain as his claws snagged against her fur, threatening to rip her pelt off. She tore herself away, feeling a clump of fur fall from her shoulder as though it had been sliced off in one blow, and sprang away before he could get her again.

It came down to energy, she realized, who could keep going longer. Lion had to try and strike her; one blow would be enough, if she wasn't fast enough to avoid it. She had to tire him out to get her own blows in, to wear him down while avoiding his claws. And she didn't have any help now, not with Northstar fighting his own battle and Stonestar missing.

It all came down to her.

She circled him quickly, feeling like a sparrow circling a hawk, dodging every blow, on and on until her muscles cried out with pain from her continued leaps and attempted slashes. She'd opened several wounds in his tabby pelt, but it was as if anything she did felt like nothing to him, as inconsequential as a fly's buzzing.

_I can't let him win! _She thought furiously, her heart pounding. _Not for my Clanmates!_

She let out a threatening, defiant snarl, but it only seemed to make him angrier; he sprang forward, and she flattened herself to the ground, striking upwards with her claws, only to be buffeted as one of his hind paws managed to strike her. Her ears seemed to ring, and disoriented, she tried to spring to the side and avoid another blow. But this time, she wasn't fast enough; his claws caught her hindquarters, pulling her down, and suddenly she was on the ground staring up with him.

"However long it takes," he spat down at her, his amber eyes brimming with madness, "I will avenge them! This is for Zig!"

She could only thrash as his fangs came down towards her.

_She screamed with pain, feeling his fangs sink into her throat, feeling her struggles and thrashing, but he was biting down harder than she could have ever thought possible; it felt as though he was tearing her throat in half. She could feel the blood rushing from her throat, and screeched, but she knew she was already gone, floating away. And he would continue to kill her, doing whatever he had to, killing her as many times as necessary until he had his revenge and she was dead._

_She opened her eyes to see that she was in a strange, misty place; in front of her was a large, shimmering pool. Beyond the pool, she could see eyes; her father's, Ashstir's, her mother's, Cinderstream's. _

"_I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice rippling the pool's surface. "I….I can't…."_

"_StarClan is healing your body as quickly as we can," Fadedstar meowed, but his eyes were round with sorrow. He knew as well as she did that she couldn't avoid Lion again when she came alive once more._

_She stared into the pool, her eyes widening as she realized she was looking down at herself; the blood from her throat injury had stopped, and her body was oddly limp, her eyes staring sightlessly ahead. Lion was watching her, seeing her wound heal itself, waiting for her to jolt back to life to kill her again._

"_Northstar? Stonestar?" she asked._

"_Both alive," Ashstir said softly, his ashy smell wafting over the pool towards her. "But…they aren't close enough. They cannot help."_

_She bowed her head, but then the pool seemed to give a glow, shining as brightly as the stars. She turned her head, feeling a force pulling her away from the pool, back to her body, back to life. She stared at Fadedstar helplessly, despair welling up inside of her as she-_

-smashed back into her body, feeling as though a thunderbolt had struck her. Strength and energy flowed through her limbs, invigorating her, and she struggled to rise only to remember that Lion's weight was still resting on her. She only had time to turn her head and see his claws gleaming, to hear him say something about a cat named Blue, before—

_-the pool glowed in front of her again, and she realized she was trembling like a leaf buffeted by a storm._

It can't end this way! _She wanted to scream. _I can't die like this! I can't leave my Clan behind! I won't!

_But she could only stare helplessly down at the pool, watching Lion wait patiently once more for his chance._

_StarClan's eyes weren't on her any longer; their heads were silently bowed, their muzzles almost resting against their chests; they'd given up, just as she had. It was hopeless._

_Then, suddenly, Fadedstar's head jerked up, and the others' did as well. She watched her father lean forward, his mouth open; for the first time, she saw his eyes widen in astonishment. She leaned forward as well, wondering what had happened, staring into the pool. She could see nothing but Lion waiting as her body healed, nothing to suggest the hope that gleamed now in her father's pale blue eyes._

_And then, suddenly, his hope seemed to flutter within her, as a strange cat plowed into Lion's side, unbalancing him for just a moment. And just as Lion turned to slash at this new cat, Silverstar felt her body tug at her, pulling her—_

-her eyes opened at the second thunderbolt, and this time she felt that Lion's weight had lifted, and she rolled to the side, scrambling to her paws. She watched with astonishment as Lion grappled with this new she-cat, a white cat with dapples of blue and cream. Her hindquarters were matted with blood, but her eyes gleamed, her muzzle twisted as she slashed at Lion's face.

But this she-cat was fighting with the same reckless, hopeless abandonment that Lion was, and unlike him she was small, fragile, like a feather. Silverstar watched with horror as Lion grabbed her, his powerful jaws tightening on her throat as he turned and threw her. She collided with the trunk of the ash tree, blood streaming from her throat, and she did not rise again, her paws twitching feebly.

Lion turned his hate-filled eyes onto her, but Silverstar wasn't watching him; she was staring at the calico she-cat, whose name she did not know, whose fur smelled like blood and TalonClan and milk. This nameless, dying cat, who had saved her life. Who was dying for her.

And then she could feel it, just as she had when she'd fought with Northstar; StarClan's power flowed through her veins now, as her Clanmates rose into her mind; Eaglestrike, Frostfeather, Ravenwing, Forest, Darkstorm, Bramblethorn, and all the others, tangled together, seared into her mind. And this nameless cat was there too, burning; she was fighting for that she-cat and all of them, fighting for StarClan and AshClan and every Clan that had fallen to Northstar and Slaughter, every cat that had died for this moment, this final battle between herself and Lion. She carried all of their weight, all of their power behind her; the journey, this battle, none of it was about her. It never had been. It had always been about _them. _

And this time when Lion sprang, she was ready, moving nimbly to the side and leaping onto his back, digging her claws into his shoulder as she sank her fangs into his single good ear, feeling it tearing underneath her teeth. And this time she felt Lion's pain running through his body, bubbling underneath all of his rage and loss, and she knew that rage was bringing him down as much as his bodily injuries. He was self-destructive; one way or another he would die, and if it was by her claws, so be it.

She let go of his ear, sinking her teeth into the side of his neck instead, but the fur around his back and neck was thick; she was unable to get deep enough to deal a crippling blow.

_I have to hit him from the front, to kill him, _she thought. _I've got seven more lives…I can make it. And if I can't…Northstar or Stonestar can finish him off. I'll have done my job for them._

She sprang off of Lion just as he started to roll to the side to shake her off; she sprang at him, aiming for his throat, but he batted her away like she was nothing. She rolled for at least two tail-lengths, before leaping to her paws and trying again, only to be blocked by his shoulder and thrown to the ground. She managed to scramble out of the way, before he could attempt to pin her down as he had before.

Then, she heard a strange sort of roar, like the voices of many cats; she turned her head to see more cats pouring onto the battlefield from both directions. Her eyes widened as she saw Eaglestrike heading his party of cats, springing into battle once more despite the wounds dotting his pelt; and then, on the other side she saw Amber racing down the slope with her own cats in tow, having defeated Lion's forces in the marsh. Her heart leaped, as she realized that Eaglestrike had defeated Blight, with the help of Cane, although she couldn't see the brown tom, and that Amber's attack had succeeded as well. Even if Lion beat her, he was doomed, as was TalonClan.

Lion wasn't paying attention to the racing forces; all he cared about was her, and she was momentarily distracted. Silverstar let out a yowl of pain as he sprang onto her, knocking her to the ground and pinning her there. She saw the blood-lust gleaming in his eyes.

"I'll kill you as many times as I have to, and all of your little friends," he spat. "This is for Tiger!"

He opened his mouth, ready to bury his bloodied fangs in her throat. Silverstar braced herself, closing her eyes and steeling herself for the pain and despair she would feel as she looked into her father's eyes and knew she had lost her third life, perhaps more quickly than any other cat in the history of their Clans.

But the attack never came. She felt Lion shudder on top of her, his weight shifting, and opened her eyes to see Northstar backing up to spring again. Lion moved to pin Silverstar back down, only to fall back again as a gray streak hit his side. Silverstar's eyes widened as she realized it was Stonestar; his neck was bloody, but he was alive.

Lion let out a furious snarl, his claws digging into Silverstar's flesh; he would not allow himself to be pushed away from his prize, his revenge. His paw rose in the air, preparing to slice open his throat, but the movement unbalanced him just enough for Northstar and Stonestar to knock him to the ground as they sprang forward together.

Silverstar rushed to regain her footing; Northstar and Stonestar were using their combined weight to hold Lion down, but he forced himself to his paws, seeming to explode upwards, and the two of them quickly sprang away landing on either side of her.

"We need to get him on his back," Silverstar ordered. "Then I can finish this."

She saw Northstar glance at her out of the corner of her eye; there was a questioning look in his golden gaze, and she gave him the smallest nod. She was ready now. She was ready to do what needed to be done; for the first time, there was no second chance.

Together, they crouched as Lion charged towards them, his bloodied fangs bared in a defiant snarl; together, they sprang forward, Stonestar and Northstar's paws hitting Lion's shoulders, causing him to stagger backwards as Silverstar's landed against his chest. Like a mighty oak, Lion crashed to the ground, and for a split second, his eyes widened as he realized that he had been bested. Without the tiniest hesitation, Silverstar struck, burying her teeth in his soft throat until his blood exploded into her mouth.

And even then, Lion did not stop. He moved forwards with explosive power, until Silverstar was barely clinging to him, throwing Northstar and Stonestar to the ground. She released him, backing away, as Lion collapsed for the second time. He laid there a moment, blood oozing through his golden pelt, his eyes staring at her with burning hatred. He attempted to force himself to his paws again, but the fire in his eyes was dying; his shaking legs could only hold him up for a second, before his muzzle hit the ground.

He laid on his side, still breathing, the blood from his fatal wound soaking his throat. Silverstar stared at him, almost afraid to get closer. But he was helpless now, reduced to the strength of a newborn kit; he couldn't stand, let alone hurt her.

It was cruel to let him suffer.

She padded forwards slowly, seeing that his eyes were still smoldering even as they slowly glazed over. And, gently, she wrapped her jaws around his throat, feeling his heartbeat thudding slowly. She bit down again, tasting blood, until Lion's heart stopped. She backed away, looking down at him; his eyes stared sightlessly in front of him, his face looking almost as if he was searching for something, or someone. Her ears flattened, and she felt a rush of sorrow for his family and all that the tom had lost; Lion had not been an evil cat. His fate had been one of misfortune; he was a creature to be pitied, not hating.

Then, slowly, she turned back towards Stonestar and Northstar. They were watching her, and she dipped her head respectfully, before springing into the ash tree. The branch had snapped under Lion's weight, leaving only a jagged edge. She stood on the edge of it, and let out a loud yowl.

For the second time that day, silence swept over the battlefield. Silverstar swept her gaze over them – the injured, the fallen, the still-fighting – before letting out another yowl, this one of triumph. "Lion is dead!"

Her warriors answered in a chorus of their own yowls, and after a moment, PeakClan and even the Twolegplace cats joined in. TalonClan was frozen for a moment; then, like a shoal of fish, they scattered, some racing into the forest, some over the Thunderpath, some towards Twolegplace.

"Let them go," Silverstar said quickly, seeing some of the warriors tensing to give chase. "They're only cowards that fled their Clan for the first time. They won't be coming back."

There was nothing more that needed to be said. Now came the hard part; collecting the injured and dead. Silverstar prepared to spring down, only for something to catch her attention. She turned her head to see a silver streak darting through the battlefield, racing for the Thunderpath. Silverstar frowned, wondering if it was a confused member of TalonClan, before realizing it was Reedrush.

_How did she get here? _Silverstar wondered, but the she-cat was obviously in a panic. Quickly, Silverstar sprang down from the tree, racing after her, darting across the Thunderpath.

She heard Reedrush gasp, and Silverstar dashed down the slope leading to the marsh, stopping as she saw Reedrush nuzzling a bloody Jaggedclaw.

"Oh, I knew," the silver queen whimpered, her nose pressed against Jaggedclaw's fur. "As soon as I smelled the ash, I knew something had happened…."

Silverstar touched Reedrush's flank with her tail, then touched Jaggedclaw with one paw; there was fur between his claws.

_He must have been chasing off one of the TalonClan warriors during the battle some time ago and been hit by a monster, _she realized. _He tried to drag himself to safety, but went to the wrong side…._

She blinked, feeling the faintest beating against her paw.

"He's alive, Reedrush," she mewed. "Here, help me."

Reedrush grabbed his scruff, and Silverstar slid underneath him to balance his weight, his dried blood sticky against her matted pelt.

Together, the two of them padded up the slope, pausing to allow a monster roar past, before racing across as quickly as they could.

Eaglestrike raced up to her as she crossed. "What happened?"

"Monster," Silverstar grunted, panting as she lowered him to the ground. "Where is everyone?"

"We're working on recovering everyone now," Eaglestrike meowed, glancing over his shoulder. "I think everyone who fought with you is okay…PeakClan lost a few warriors, but Darkstorm and Bramblethorn are here. We're still trying to find everyone from my side, but…Brightfire and Rainsplash are nowhere to be seen."

Silverstar frowned; Brightfire and Rainsplash would have come if they were able.

_Which means…._Her stomach seemed to drop, and she sighed quietly.

"We'll look for them," she promised. "We need to look over this battlefield first—"

"Belladonna!"

Bramblethorn's cry made her turn, and she saw him racing towards the nameless calico that had saved her. He buried his nose in her fur. Silverstar glanced at Eaglestrike; he gave her a small shrug.

"Get Jaggedclaw into camp, he can be taken care of there," she said quietly. He nodded, bending down to help Reedrush carry the bloody tabby away. Silverstar headed towards Bramblethorn.

He turned towards her quickly, his golden eyes narrowed. "Did you kill her?" he growled, his fur bristling. Silverstar blinked in surprise.

"No, I didn't kill her. She didn't attack me," Silverstar said. "She saved me. I wouldn't be alive if she didn't attack Lion."

Bramblethorn blinked in surprise. "She…attacked Lion? But she was…where are her…?"

"Her what?" Silverstar asked, confused. She shook herself; he was probably in shock, disoriented. They all were. She gave his shoulder a gentle lick. "I'm sorry. She was a brave cat, and she must have been good if she was your friend."

"She was half-mad," he said quietly. "Blight did something to her…but she was with….I could have sworn…." His eyes traced her pelt, which was matted with blood. "I've got to go," he said abruptly. "I have to…look for something."

He padded away quickly, leaving Silverstar blinking after him, still feeling confused. However, there was no time to dwell on it; she had to look over the battlefield, help those who could be saved and bury those who could not.

But first, they needed to move the AshClan cats out of the Peak, back to their own camp, where everyone could be tended to. The two Clans might share their herbs, but there simply wasn't room for all of the injured there.

She raced up the Peak as quickly as she could, bursting into camp; she was instantly tackled by at least three apprentices with thorn-sharp claws. She let out a yowl, and the apprentices let out a gasp as they caught her scent.

"Wait, I think—"

"Hang on, is she—"

"Silverstar?"

The three apprentices sprang off of her, and she rose to her paws, blinking at the three of them. They flushed with embarrassment, ears flat against their heads.

"We're sorry," the ginger one said.

"Yeah, we thought you were an enemy," the other tom, a brown tabby mewed; Silverstar remembered Darkstorm saying a brown tabby had tackled him; she guessed this was the same one; his name was Hawkpaw, she remembered from her time in camp as prisoner.

"Is the battle over? Is everyone okay?" the last apprentice, a white she-cat with wide blue eyes – Icepaw – asked anxiously.

"Don't worry, you three did very well," Silverstar assured them. "But the battle's over now. We're looking over the wounded, and…." She trailed off uncertainly, but it was obvious the apprentices understood. They all shot each other anxious glances, and the ginger apprentice pressed his pelt against Icepaw's.

"Can we go see?" Hawkpaw asked, but Silverstar shook her head.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," she said gently. "You've got to stay here and keep an eye on everything, just in case any remaining TalonClan cats pop up, okay?"

The apprentices nodded dutifully, and Silverstar smiled at them, only to blink as Rumble and Shimmerpaw padded towards her quickly.

"Silverstar, please come this way!" Rumble exclaimed, flicking his tail and heading back towards the nursery. Silverstar trotted after them, noting new soreness on her back from the apprentices, and poked her head into the nursery. She let out an exclamation of surprise and delight.

"Ravenwing! Kits? What happened? You weren't due at least until the half moon, right?"

Ravenwing lifted her head and gave Silverstar a weak smile; two kits were curled up against her belly, one black and one dappled with gray.

"The stress and everything kind of teamed up on her," Shimmerpaw meowed. "She had them early." Her voice dropped slightly. "One…didn't quite make it."

Silverstar blinked with surprise, and nuzzled Ravenwing's shoulder. "I'm sorry." She turned to the two medicine cats. "You two delivered them?"

Shimmerpaw and Rumble exchanged glances. "Yeah, kind of," she mewed. "We made the apprentices and everyone else go sit in Blackmoon's den. Rumble and I delivered them together…Blackmoon wanted to help, but he hadn't delivered a litter before either, so he wasn't really any more use, you know?"

Silverstar's fur prickled - there was something the two of them weren't quite saying – but she didn't argue.

"Eaglestrike will be very happy," she mewed. Ravenwing's green eyes widened.

"Did you see him? Is he okay? I was so worried…that's probably why the kits came so early, I couldn't stop shaking…I kept imagining him dead, over and over…the problem with being trained as a medicine cat is that you have those sorts of dreams, of Clanmates dying, almost every time you close your eyes…." She trailed off.

"He's fine," Silverstar assured her. "I spoke to him, yes, don't worry. He's okay. Darkstorm and Bramblethorn are definitely okay too…I don't know about the others, we're still looking for them, I just wanted to move everyone back to our camp. We'll have more room for the injured there. Is that okay with you?"

Ravenwing nodded. "I'll need help carrying them."

"I'd like to, but I'm afraid getting down the Peak will be difficult for me," Rumble said quietly. "I'll need Shimmerpaw's help, and I'd hate to fall with a kit…."

"I'll carry one of them, then," Silverstar decided. "Shimmerpaw, you might still have to carry one too, since Reedrush isn't here."

"Where is she?" Rumble asked.

"She ran off, to help Jaggedclaw…she knew he was in trouble," Silverstar explained. "Come on, let's hurry."

"Frostfeather and the others are in the medicine den," Shimmerpaw mewed. I'll go get 'em."

. . .

Silverstar left the others at camp, heading towards the battlefield once more. Some of the dead had been found and accounted for; her heart sank as she saw Brightfire and Rainsplash lying side by side, unmoving, beside other PeakClan warriors that she didn't know.

_So many dead…because Lion's own family died, _she thought, and turned, searching for Northstar in the crowd. _His actions brought all of this…and mine did as well._

Then, she stopped with surprise, as she saw Amber staring down at Cane's still body. Golden fur was between his claws.

Silverstar came to stand beside the calico she-cat. She was staring down at her brother, disbelief obvious on her face. "Carmelo must have killed him," she whispered. "My brother…he's dead. But…I always thought we would end up killing each other, not that it would end like this…."

Silverstar felt a surge of sympathy; she knew Amber's feud with her brother almost mirrored Silverstar's with Northstar.

_How do you go on, when there's nothing left to strive for? _She wondered. _When that conflict that was part of you just…disappears?_

She touched Amber's flank with her tail. "In the end, he was a hero, fighting for a just cause," she meowed. "We'll help you if Carmelo gains power, I promise."

_Many of the displaced TalonClan cats will go to him, if given the chance, _she thought. _We can't let that happen. Amber might not be able to fend them off then…and where will Cane's own cats go? Not to Amber, certainly…Carmelo might become our next big foe._

Amber just gave a dull nod, before placing one paw gently on her brother's pelt. Silverstar hovered uncertainly, wondering if there was more she could do to help, but she knew Amber would want to mourn alone.

She turned away, continuing down the row of the dead, pausing to stare down at a still ginger tom, who smelled of PeakClan.

_Sandpelt? _She thought, recognizing the deputy; he was Hawkpaw and Icepaw's father._ PeakClan's own deputy died? He hadn't served very long at all, had he?_

"Sandpelt was very brave," she heard Eaglestrike say, and she turned to find him standing beside her, gazing down at the ginger tom. "He saved my life, when I was fighting Blight…and he died doing it." His shoulders were slumped slightly, and she pressed her pelt against his.

"Why would he do that?" she wondered aloud. "I mean, we're allies, but he had a family…."

"He said he knew my mate was with kits," Eaglestrike said dully, "and he knew what it was like, to raise kits with only one parent…his mate died giving birth to his own kits. He said he didn't want any other kits to have to go through something like that…."

"His are nearly warriors now," she said softly. "He raised them well….Oh!" Her eyes widened as she realized that Eaglestrike probably had no idea of what had happened to Ravenwing during the battle. Eaglestrike glanced towards her curiously, as she smiled.

"Ravenwing had her kits during the battle," Silverstar purred. Eaglestrike's jaw dropped. "She's okay," Silverstar said quickly, before Eaglestrike could race off to make sure. "She's in camp now. There are two of them, a little black tom and a gray she-cat. She wanted to wait for you before she decided to name them."

Eaglestrike's head turned in the direction of camp, even though they were too far away to see it; his legs trembled, and she knew he wanted nothing more than to dash towards camp and find his mate.

"Go ahead," she said, laughing quietly. "You've done enough, and she needs you."

Eaglestrike waited only long enough to nod, before he was racing into the burnt undergrowth. She watched, feeling almost wistful, before a scent caught her attention.

"Forest!" she exclaimed, racing towards him, only to stop as she realized he was carrying another cat in his jaws, a ginger tom. It took her a moment to realize that Fawncloud was walking beside Forest, helping to support the ginger tom's weight; it was Foxclaw.

Forest met Silverstar's gaze, and a shiver seemed to go through him; she felt a strange desire to race towards him and bury her face in his fur, to make sure he was uninjured, but Forest gave her the slightest shake of his head.

"Go on," Fawncloud said quietly, "I can carry him the rest of the way."

"Not up the Peak, you can't," Forest said softly. "Not without help, okay? There's plenty of time."

Silverstar watched with disbelief as Forest and Fawncloud headed towards the Peak; she wanted to follow them, but knew she would only be in the way.

_Forest hated Foxclaw, _she thought._ Foxclaw is one of the cats that killed that old rogue…._

"Princess!"

She turned to find him racing towards her; behind him, a bloody warrior that she recognized as Rainwind was helping carry Foxclaw.

Forest ran into her, nearly knocking her over in his excitement, and she could feel his deep purrs vibrating through her body. She buried her nose in his fur, drinking in his scent, reassuring herself that he was alright.

"What happened?" she whispered to him. "You were helping Foxclaw. Did he help you during the battle?"

Forest let out a quiet laugh, moving so that her head was tucked underneath his muzzle and resting against his broad chest. "No, nothing like that. I actually saved his pelt once, although he didn't appreciate it."

"But you hated him. Why would you do that? You were willing to rip his muzzle off not to long ago."

Forest's green eyes seemed to dance as he looked down at her. "Well, I couldn't let any TalonClan cats do that for me, right?" he asked, laughing. Then, his face became more somber. "I did it because that's what warriors do, right? If you've taught me anything, Silverstar, it's that warriors don't allow their own grudges to get in between them and their duty…and that every cat deserves a second chance."

Silverstar beamed up at him, feeling as though she was glowing with happiness; finally, she knew Forest understood what being a warrior meant. And she had been the one to teach him that.

"I think you're ready for your warrior name," she said softly, flicking her tail over his muzzle. Forest purred again.

"Might want to hold off for a few days on that, though," he said, glancing towards the battlefield, where many cats still remained to be buried. "If I'm on my warrior vigil, I won't be able to help anyone with all this."

Silverstar nodded, then pressed her muzzle against his fur, simply enjoying the feeling, the realization that Forest was alive and well and everything would be okay.

. . .

"AshClan," Silverstar said softly, atop the pile of branches they had gathered. "As you know, we have beaten Lion, and driven TalonClan away. But we sustained losses, as did every Clan." She flicked her tail to Brightfire and Rainsplash's bodies. "If you wish to share tongues with them for the last time, now would be the time to do so. I believe every one of our other warriors has been accounted for?"

The gathered cats nodded; Frostfeather was sitting beside Brightfire's body, her green eyes dark; Darkstorm was not there to comfort her.

Silverstar's eyes drifted towards the medicine den; Darkstorm was inside, having received several deep blows on his side. Jaggedclaw was in the den as well; Rumble and Shimmerpaw were working frantically to save his life. Reedrush was also in the den, although she was uninjured, trying to comfort Jaggedclaw as best she could.

Bramblethorn was sitting off to one side, away from the rest of the group, his head bowed; whatever he had been looking for in the forest, he had apparently not found it.

Tremor's band was in the camp as well, forming their own group closer to the apprentice den; most of them were not injured. Minnow was missing, but her body had not been found; Tremor and the others didn't know where she had gone, but they assumed that she was fine and that she would soon return.

"You all fought like true warriors," Silverstar continued quietly; there was an air of mourning hanging over the camp, and she felt as though congratulating them on their victory would seem hollow. "I'm proud to lead each and every one of you."

"What are you going to do about what remains of TalonClan?" Bramblethorn asked quietly. "Are we going to take care of them?"

Silverstar hesitated; she still did not quite know what to do with them. Her gaze swept over the camp, finally settling on Tremor; as she did so, she thought she caught the faintest scent of ash.

"Tremor," she meowed, "you fought as well as any warrior during this battle. You've proven yourself to be an honorable and respected cat, especially for so many rogues to follow you. Find the rest of TalonClan, and as many of Cane's cats as you can, and take them back to the mountains and forest valley. Perhaps you can create something there; not quite a Clan, but not quite a group of rogues, either. Every cat deserves a second chance, a single shot at redemption, and I believe you are the cat to lead them to that."

Tremor's muzzle rose, and his green eyes glowed gently. "I understand, Silverstar, and I am honored to be chosen for this. I will do as you suggest…but I don't want to force my followers into anything." He turned towards the members of his rogue band.

"I have nowhere else to go," Griffin growled, his golden tail wrapped tightly around his paws. "And you'll need someone to keep those cats in line."

Tremor nodded, turning to a gray tom. "And you, Shredder?"

Shredder's ears flattened. "Scorpion was my partner," he said quietly. "Nightshade killed him, and then we went to the mountains…I have no desire to return there. I'm sorry." He turned to look up at Silverstar. "I would be honored if I would be allowed to join your Clan instead."

"And I would be as well," another one of Tremor's cats, a calico, mewed. She held two kits between her paws. "We barely made it over the mountains before…I don't want to endanger them again," she meowed anxiously. "And Swansong was their mother just as much as I am…and she died while we were with you all, and as long as we're with you, the memories are so strong….."

Tremor touched her flank with his tail. "I understand, Primrose, and Shredder too. I won't force you to come. Will you take them in, Silverstar?"

Silverstar nodded. "Of course."

"Brother," Rumble said quietly, and Tremor turned to see his brother standing in the entrance to the medicine den. "I cannot come either."

Tremor's eyes widened, and for once he looked taken aback. "What?"

"My calling is here, for the moment," Rumble said quietly. "I am here to mentor Shimmerpaw, until she becomes a medicine cat in her own right. StarClan has informed me of this. Once I am finished, I will return to you, but until then…."

Tremor's ears flattened, but he nodded. "I understand, brother. You have to do what you must." Pain glinted in his green eyes, and Silverstar wondered if this was the first time he'd been separated from his brother.

"Thank you, Rumble; we'll be honored to have you stay with us," she meowed. "I don't think there is anything further to say. Everyone needs their rest; we'll have more work ahead of us tomorrow." She sprang down from the branch pile, and the gathered cats broke up, splitting into their respective dens.

Forest was waiting for her, and she brushed her tail over his pelt.

"Only a few days, then I get my warrior name, okay?" Forest asked. "I don't want Thistlepaw to go through his entire training with a mentor who doesn't even have a warrior name."

Silverstar leaned against him, purring. "Of course. You'll earn it in time."

Forest's green eyes glowed. "What's it going to be, huh? Can you go ahead and tell me? I promise I'll still look surprised."

Silverstar laughed; even now, Forest could keep her in good spirits. "You'll have to wait and see," she purred. "Just like any other warrior." She licked his muzzle lovingly. "Goodnight, Forest."

"Oh, come on!" she heard him call as she padded into the leader's den. "Don't I get any special privileges?"

She shook her head with amusement as she curled up on her moss bedding, staring out the den entrance. The moon glowed faintly overhead, dappling the camp with gentle light. She could hear the sounds of the camp, kits settling in to sleep, and she smiled.

"We won," she whispered. "StarClan, thank you."

_StarClan will provide. _

**AN: Sorry about the lateness of this update, this week's been really crazy and I've been so busy. Please don't hit me with blunt objects. D:**

**Also, I've got an avvie now. After like over a year without one. Yay?**

**One more chappy of a full POV, and then…epilogue! Who's excited? :D**

**Also, I think I confused you guys on the before-and-after thing. I don't have a sample of my original role-play; I was thinking it would be more of a compare/contrast thing (for example, in original role-play, Rabbitpaw's name was Arrowpaw). **


	54. C h a p t e r 53: Chill

**C **_**h a p t e r **_**53: Chill**

He watched the battle rage, as cats tore at one another with thorn-sharp claws. He watched as cats fell, tainting the air with the smell of their blood. He watched as the cowardly silver she-cat fled, weaving her way through the battle with a white tom at her side. He watched as she yowled foolishly from the ash tree. He watched as Lion sprang up to meet her.

He watched as she killed Lion, his father. He watched as the rest of cowardly TalonClan scattered, leaving only the dead and wounded behind. He watched as AshClan and PeakClan scurried to figure out who was alive, and who was dead. He watched as Lion's body was quickly forgotten, while the others rushed to fix every little thing, to rebuild their precious lives, forgetting that they had killed his father.

And while he watched, he did not feel a thing.

Chill had always been strange, out of place; emotions didn't touch him. He did not feel anger, sadness, joy; they were beyond him, untouchable. He could occasionally access negative emotions – anger, jealousy – but only if he pushed himself. The rest of them were simply untouchable. It had been that way ever since he was born; he hadn't felt anything when he and his mother had left his sister Shimmer behind.

But that did not mean he could not be loyal. Lion had saved his life, rescued him, raised him as his own. Lion had decided to leave him behind with the queens and kits in FrozenClan camp, to spare him the horrors of the war. But Chill had been over the mountains before, in the jaws of his mother, and he had not been afraid. He had followed Lion and TalonClan here, to see the battle, to watch Lion take his final revenge. And then after that, Chill could easily convince Lion to stay with TalonClan, to take over the Twolegplace with Carmelo, to secure Chill's own future…but none of that was possible now.

Chill was not upset about the loss of power. He was not upset about anything; Chill did not _get _upset. He was cold, calculating, manipulative; that and Lion's delusions were the only reasons he was even still alive. But Chill did understand balance, the scales by which the universe ran. And he knew that the scales had to be kept in balance; a blow for a blow, a life for a life. He once thought his mother had saved his life twice; once by taking him instead of Shimmer, and once by saving him from the badger that killed her. He had balanced out the latter by telling Lion he had seen a badger in the forest; Lion had killed the badger single-handedly. As for the former, it appeared that Shimmer was actually alive and well, so he did not owe his mother on that account. With his mother, the scale was balanced.

But Lion had saved his life, taken him in, nurturing him. And Lion had died fighting for him, along with everything that the golden tabby had lost. The scales were out of balance; Chill owed Lion his life and had given nothing in return.

But Chill would soon take care of that.

He had learned enough from Lion to know how to hunt for himself, how to stalk his prey. He could sustain himself for a few days while he waited for the Clans to take care of the dead and dying, to wait for them to begin to relax. And when they were relaxed, he would approach, and be accepted without a second thought; Shimmer would recognize him and fuss over him, and that would be that. He would be in their Clan, and if everything worked out, he would be close to Silverstar. And then…a life for a life.

. . .

He licked one white paw, smoothing it over his ear as he watched; the rogue cats were readying themselves to leave. It was several days after the battle, now; most of the bodies had been accounted for and taken care of. Several still remained, but the rogues were no longer needed for that task.

His eyes narrowed slightly; Tremor and the other rogues would know who he was just by looking at him, as Lion's son. He would confess his position, of course, but he didn't want the rogues filling Silverstar's ears with poison. He wasn't worried about the ones staying behind; their words weren't important. Tremor was the one who obviously held Silverstar's attention, for the moment. If she later considered Shredder or Primrose's words…well, by then it would probably be too late.

He allowed himself a small smile, feeling a malevolent sort of humor – one of the other emotions he was able to feel, although it wasn't always accessible – as he settled himself to watch.

"Thank you," Silverstar said to Tremor, touching his muzzle with her own. "For all of your help. We would have fared much worse in the battle without you."

Tremor simply nodded, before glancing at Shredder and Primrose, as well as the kits huddled around her paws.

"I wish you all the best of luck," he rumbled, dipping his broad head to them; then he turned to Rumble, who was slowly approached him, careful not to accidentally bump into his brother blindly.

"Take care of yourself," Tremor said quietly, touching his brother's dark shoulder with his nose. "You won't have me to tell you when to duck or to move so you don't run into trees now, remember."

Rumble smiled, his pale green eyes slightly misty. "I wouldn't worry. I'm sure Shimmerpaw will do her best." He tilted his head in the silver apprentice's direction, but she wasn't paying attention; her eyes were following the flight of a small green leaf, one of the first of the season.

_Newleaf's almost here, _Chill thought. _Fitting, I suppose, that Silverstar shall pay for my father's death during the time of new life. If all goes well, that is…which it will, of course. I do not make mistakes. I calculate everything perfectly. My revenge – our revenge, I should say – will be had._

He blinked, realizing that the dark, blind tom was still speaking.

"When Shimmerpaw earns her full name as a medicine cat, I will try to return to you," he continued. "My services will no longer be needed here at that time."

Tremor let out a low purr. "Please train her quickly, then," he meowed, and Rumble smiled.

"You won't need me, brother, not until I return. There are other cats waiting for you, in TalonClan's old home…I believe he left the queens and kits there, as well as a few other cats…one in particular will be important to you. Her name is Feather. She will give you all the guidance you will need."

Chill blinked slowly; where had Rumble gotten that information? Feather was one of the healers, not commonly spoken about; her only purpose was to tend to the wounded of TalonClan. The useless she-cat didn't even hunt, or collect herbs; herbs were brought to her by warriors sent to retrieve them for her and the other healers of the Clan.

_He's one of _them, _isn't he, _Chill thought dryly. _One of StarClan's super-secret club. I suppose Shimmerpaw is as well…to think that my sister, the violent little thing, is actually praised as a healer here? Either she's changed from the forceful, battle-loving sister I used to know, or these cats don't really know her at all. Hmm. We'll see about that._

_I suppose my eventual betrayal will hurt her, when I have my revenge for Lion…but I can't honestly say that I care about that. Do it? _He paused in his thoughts for a moment, diving deep within himself, into the dark recesses of his own mind, searching for some scrap of light, some frail bit of guilt or sorrow. But, of course, there was nothing there; he was as icy cold as always, frozen to the core. He'd always been that way; why would it change now, just because he was betraying the last of his kin?

_She'll feel guilty, because she is going to be one of the cats pressing Silverstar to allow me into the Clan, _he thought, and allowed himself a small smile. _Good. She was always Mother's favorite anyway; Mother picking me up instead of her was purely by chance, a blind choice in the dark of the night. She probably thought she was saving her dear Shimmer, instead of me. _

_And, unless I'm mistaken, Shimmer is probably still seeing Mother in her dreams, assuming that Mother ended up in the same place as these dead cats…which, if this rogue is truly seeing StarClan, makes sense. Mother was nothing more than a lowly rogue, but if this tom visits StarClan then she must surely reside there. Perhaps the desire to see her is what drives Shimmer to become a medicine cat. If that was taken away…what would happen to her, I wonder? It would be an interesting experiment. I'll have to poke my nose around and see if such a thing is possible, later, once the Clan has accepted me into its ranks._

He sat back, his tongue rasping over his whiskers as he reflected over his plans. They seemed solid enough, but there was always room for error…but Chill didn't make errors. He made plans, perfect plans; it was easy when you saw through the veil of deception that emotions seemed to cast over everything. Other cats, weak cats like Silverstar, allowed their hearts to rule their decisions. How many times Silverstar had probably nearly died from that, Chill did not know, but he was willing to bet it was more often than his own brushes with death. And when Chill himself was in danger, there was always another cat to sacrifice, one controlled by foolish emotions…his mother and Lion had both fallen into that trap, although he had not asked them to die for him; it had simply happened, by forces outside of his control, powers that he could not stop.

But he had evened the scales with his mother by having Lion kill the badger that had in turn killed her. And shortly he would be evening the scales for Lion as well. Emotions didn't direct him to do such a thing; it was more of an innate feeling, an inner purpose. In his mind, so long as the scales were righted, he was safe. Everything was in balance, the world was perfect, and he had nothing to worry about.

_Of course, that might not work out this time, even if the scales are righted, _he thought. _For I'm sure taking the leader's life will not work out in my favor. Not with what I have planned. But that's fine, isn't it? I don't have much to offer this world myself…although emotions lead cats to do foolish things, they lead them to sometimes to great things as well…so I can be neither foolish nor great. I'm simply…here. A void. Sucking up resources and giving nothing in return, trying futilely to keep track of every debt owed and pay them all back in full…a sad existence, truly._

He felt the smallest flicker then, he thought, the tiniest bit of something that was almost sorrow. But it faded as quickly as it had come, leaving his heart frozen once more, and he smiled; such flitting emotions did not change him, did not alter his perspective. It would take something much greater for that, and he knew he could never feel it. He could never hold the bond that Tremor and Rumble shared, or the rivalry that Silverstar and Northstar felt, or the love that caused Ravenwing to purr against Eaglestrike's side. Those bonds were alien to him, as unimaginable as being able to fly like a bird.

He rested his head on his paws, watching as Tremor and Rumble touched muzzles once more, before Tremor and the large golden tom, Griffin, padded away together.

"Bye, Tremor!" the ginger kit tucked between Primrose's paws meowed loudly. "I'm coming to find you when Rumble does! I'll be the best deputy ever!"

"Keep an eye out for Minnow, if she tries to find you again," Rumble called; Tremor paused for a moment, nodding, before both he and Griffin disappeared from sight.

_Minnow? _Chill wondered. _Wasn't she one of our cats? I can't remember…I thought that she was killed, somehow? Or went missing? Did she join these rogues as a traitor to TalonClan?_

_I did see a she-cat, a young one, during my time here while waiting for the Clans to finish cleaning up after the battle…she was with kits, I think, taking them towards Twolegplace. Was that Minnow? I do not believe she was with kits…if she had been, she wouldn't have dared left the safety of TalonClan, especially since our queens were always well-fed….It doesn't make sense. Where does she have to go?_

He rasped his tongue over his muzzle one last time, before rising to his paws and following Tremor's scent. He followed them a short distance, until he was certain that their scent trail did not overlap or cross Minnow's; apparently they had no idea where she was going either.

_To Amber, perhaps? _He wondered. _I'm not sure if she'd take in tom kits, though…were all of the kits female? And where did they come from?_

His brow furrowed. Chill did not like extra, unexpected variables; even the smallest things – such as Cane and Amber hating Carmelo – could end up destroying a beautiful plan, as Cane and Amber's attack had destroyed Lion's revenge.

_And where is Carmelo now? He's alive, that much is certain…he's probably gathering up the scattered remains of TalonClan right now, just as Tremor is seeking to. Cane's rogues will go to him as well, since Amber will not take them in…Cane's death makes Carmelo that much more powerful. He's more of a threat now. _

He paused, glancing over his shoulder, back towards the camp. _And doubtlessly, Silverstar will attempt to step in…hopefully by then my revenge will already have been taken against her, but it might be wise to gain Carmelo's help as well…yes. I'll need to arrange a meeting with him._

His pink tongue ran over his white fur. _He'll probably only think of me as a kit, of course, despite my age…I am small, it's an easy mistake to make. But small or not, I was mentored by Lion, taught his moves, shown his power…power that I am easily capable of using. I am Lion's legacy, despite not truly being his son. He made me into his son, I suppose…._

He sat down for a moment, thinking. Was now the time to approach Silverstar? Now, while the final bodies were being buried, as Tremor and Griffin quickly disappeared from AshClan's life?

_Yes, _he decided._ Now would be the best time, while they are rejoicing in their peace and believe that they cannot be touched. How many cats did they lose in this battle? Only two? And TalonClan lost so many…._His lip curled. _They were weak, attempting to make up for their feeble skills with numbers…it's easy to forget that they were the cowards, the traitors of the forest Clans, with the remaining scraps of FrozenClan thrown in for good measure. Most of them were nothing more than worthless trash, doomed to be sacrificed simply to wear AshClan down….But Lion was not like them. Lion was not trash. And yet, Lion still died…._

His ears flattened, as the image of Lion's bloody body filled his mind. Slowly, he turned, heading towards the camp; then, he paused.

_It would be best to encounter Silverstar in the forest, so that she does not think I am simply stalking her, or spying on her, _he thought. _I shall reveal myself to her then, looking hopelessly confused and hungry…mmm. Her heart is weak, and soft. She will not be able to turn such a pathetic scrap of fur away._

He turned his head, and buried his teeth in his own shoulder, ripping out a clump of fur. He winced at the pain, before taking another from his chest, one from his opposite site, another on his hindquarters, until his coat looked ragged, smeared just slightly with his own blood.

He turned away from the camp, instead breaking into a run, plunging towards the river. The bank was covered in soft, slick mud, which he rolled in, allowing it to plaster his white fur to his pelt, leaving only his chilling blue eyes truly visible. The mud was cold, and he shivered, but that only added to his seeming vulnerability. He truly looked lost now, confused and miserable, shaking with cold and fear. He halted his shudders just long enough to allow himself a small smile, before he began stumbling towards Silverstar's camp, picking up dead leaves and twigs along his way as they snagged in his muddy coat.

He opened his mouth, Silverstar's scent filling his senses, and he paused, eyes gleaming; she was heading towards him now, towards the battlefield to take care of the last of the dead. A few cats were with her, but he was not worried about them; they had no idea who he was.

"I'm glad this is the last of them," he heard a low voice, a tom's say. "I don't think my claws could take any more of this; honestly, they're becoming quite ragged. I'm almost no longer attractive!"

He heard Silverstar let out a purr of amusement, and the tom let out a sound of protest; Chill assumed she had nudged him or hit him in some manner.

Chill pushed his way through the bushes, blinking at the pair of them; Silverstar, with her radiant, shimmering silver fur, and the tom at her side, with short brown fur and sharp tabby markings.

He allowed himself to fall to the ground, letting out a feeble cough. He heard Silverstar's footsteps pause for only a moment.

"Did you hear something?" she asked. The tom with her was quiet for a moment, probably scenting the air.

"I don't smell anything…." He said slowly. Slowly, Chill began to back up, like a weakened kit trying to flee dangerous enemies; hopefully it would be enough to fool the two warriors.

"No, listen," Silverstar said again. "Something's moving. I think it's coming from over here…."

Chill froze, staring with wide eyes as Silverstar's face appeared. She blinked down at him, surprised at first, then confused, flicking her fluffy tail to summon the dark tabby tom.

"Who are you?" she asked curiously. "Poor little thing, come here. Are you hurt?"

He stood up, trembling as if with nervousness, although he remained icy cool inside as always.

"I-I'm not really hurt," he stammered. "Just…." His ears flattened, and he stared at the pair of them with wide, frightened eyes.

The tabby gave him a crooked smile. "Don't be worried, muddy-paws. Silverstar here's a real softy, she'll take care of you."

Silverstar nipped his ear playfully, and he yelped. "What? It's the true! You're about as firm when it comes to young cats as a baby mouse." His green eyes glinted as he blinked at Chill. "What's your name, muddy-paws?"

"Chill," he said softly, glancing from face to face to see if his name meant anything to either of them. It apparently did not – which was good, since he was certain his name had only negative associations with those cats that new it. "I'm…I'm with TalonClan. Or I was."

Silverstar frowned. "I didn't think they brought any apprentices with them; I only saw warriors, didn't you?" She glanced at the tom for confirmation, and he nodded.

"I followed them," he confessed. "I wanted to help in the battle, but…I obviously didn't. Lion's dead, and…." He continued to tremble, looking like a helpless scrap of fur hopelessly lost in the world. Silverstar's blue eyes softened.

"Apprentice of TalonClan or not, you're clearly no threat to us, and the warrior code tells us to help those in need," she meowed. "Come on. You can come with Forest and myself back to our camp, okay? We'll get you cleaned up and everything there."

Chill nodded mutely, trailing after the two of them as they headed to camp. If either of them had looked back at him, they would have seen an icy spark of triumph glowing in his blue eyes.

. . .

"Here's the medicine den; they'll take care of you," Silverstar said warmly, as they entered camp. She led him to a large den near a fallen log; he poked his head inside.

"Hey, Rumble? Shimmerpaw? We found a new cat. He says his name is Chill, apparently he was with TalonClan. He's not a threat though, obviously."

Rumble's head turned quickly, ears pricked with interest. "Chill, you say?"

Chill ignored him, focusing his eyes on Shimmerpaw instead. She looked bored as she glanced him over, until her icy eyes met his. She stared at him for a moment, as if puzzled; then, realization broke over her face, and she padded forward very quickly until she was at his side. She licked one paw and pulled it over his fur, exposing the white fur underneath.

"Ice?" she whispered, surprise and amazement in her voice. "Ice? Is that you?"

"I go by Chill now, actually," he meowed, but he needn't have bothered; she was already pressing her nose into his fur. He could have sworn she was trembling faintly.

_She loves me, _he thought. _Even though our mother chose me over her…and I care nothing for her. She's just another cat to me, another scrap of fur with a beating heart._

"Shimmerpaw? Who is this?" Silverstar asked, sounding confused. He glanced towards her, and she stared at him as if entrapped by his icy gaze; then, understanding gleamed in her eyes, and she blinked.

"Wait…you're Cinderstream's son, aren't you?"

He frowned; the name was unfamiliar to him, and for a moment he thought she had confused him for another.

"Cinderstream was our mother's real name, not Faith," Shimmerpaw said, her voice still muffled by his fur. She slowly pulled away, her nose smudged with dried mud. "There was a lot she didn't tell us."

For a moment, Chill was taken aback; his mother had been a Clan cat? One of these weaklings? Then, he nodded.

"I suppose I am her son, yes," he said slowly.

"And Lion's son as well," Rumble said quietly. Silverstar turned towards him, puzzled.

"What do you mean?"

"Lion adopted me, after my mother died fighting a badger," Chill said quietly; there was no point in hiding the truth. "I think he honestly believed I was his son. Lion was…not well."

Silverstar nodded. "Yes, I know that. He lost his entire family."

Chill was struck by a memory, for a brief moment – Lion, talking about Chill's supposed mother, a she-cat named Clover who had apparently died kitting – and nodded. "Yes. He believed I was one of the kits that he lost, and he treated me as such."

Silverstar suddenly looked uncertain, and Shimmerpaw bristled.

"Don't look at him like that," she growled to the leader. "He's still my brother, even if he has a new name. Right, Ice?" She turned towards him, and he nodded again.

"Of course. Lion is dead now, there's no point in me pretending to be his son any longer."

_Even though he was more of a parent than my mother ever was, always running away from ghosts that no one but she could see…she was even more mad than Lion, in the end._

Silverstar looked relieved, although there was still uncertainty in her eyes. "Well…in any case, we'll be glad to keep you, if you'll stay," she said. "I'm sure your sister doesn't want to lose you a second time."

He glanced at Shimmerpaw, who was looking almost bashful – she wasn't prone to these sorts of outburst of emotion, although she at least felt them, unlike him – and then nodded, giving Silverstar the smallest of smiles.

"Of course I wish to join your Clan," he purred. "There is much I don't know about my mother, and everything else. There is much I have to learn, more than Lion could have ever told me. I'll listen to whatever you can tell me."

Silverstar smiled at him. "Excellent. You're of apprenticing age, right? We can apprentice you soon, then. But I'm sure you'll want to be cleaned up first, and seen to. You don't have a problem with that, do you, Rumble?"

Chill realized that Rumble's sightless eyes were locked onto his pelt, as if he could truly see him; it almost looked as if Rumble was searching him, feeling him out. For some reason, Chill shivered.

"No," Rumble said quietly. "I've no problem with that at all."

Silverstar left the den, and Shimmerpaw was on him at once, rubbing his fur with damp paws to coax the mud out. He almost relaxed under her touch – it was truly comforting – listening as the sounds of AshClan washed over his white ears. He could hear them sharing tongues, sharing prey, going about their lives as Clan cats together. They were truly a Clan, albeit a Clan of odds and ends; they celebrated the warrior code, thrived in their territory, and as several of them had already demonstrated, they were willing to die for it.

Chill allowed himself the smallest of smiles. AshClan had built itself up around one single cat, Silverstar…and he was going to tear her down.

_A life for a life, Silverstar. A Clan for a Clan.  
_

**AN: Chill enjoys monologue-ing, and he's kind of ramblely…much like me. He's the same way in role-play (unlike most of the characters here, I'm actually currently using Chill; I originally made him like a year and a half ago and I brought him back to a different rp place like seven months ago, so). Which means that he's very fun to role-play (because I enjoy soul-searching character development) but also hard to role-play with, because he's usually thinking instead of talking, which makes it difficult for whoever I'm with. But…I love him.**

**Unfortunately, he won't be one of our POV characters in the sequel. But he'll be important nonetheless (as the title, Chilled, suggests; bear in mind, however that the title is not simply about him). **

**Also, are we good to go with a compare/contrast bit (with bullets of differences and similarities only, no actual samples) or do we just not wanna bother with that?**


	55. E p i l o g u e & A N

**E **_**p i l o g u e **_

She looked down at her Clan, pride gleaming in her eyes, seeing their pelts dappled by the diminishing sun; the final cats had been laid to rest, Lion included; they all slept beneath the earth now. Finally, everything was finished, everything was done; the last remnants of their troubles were gone, impossible to see; they had won, she could truly see that now, and the victory tasted sweet against her tongue.

"AshClan," she said softly, and her Clan's eyes shone back at her in the dying light. "We have fulfilled our name, risen from the ashes to become more than we ever were before. We have lost cats, but such is a part of life, and we know that they reside in the stars now, shining gently down upon us. And we also know that, somehow, despite the losses and pain…life goes on."

Her gaze swept over her Clan, and her heart seemed to beat in her chest, like a bird yearning to fly freely.

"And because life goes on, changes happen, and it is these changes that I would like to recognize tonight. First, we honor Shredder and Primrose, as well as young Pyro and Merla; hopefully they will be with us for many moons to come."

The Clan murmured quietly, acknowledging them; Primrose looked away shyly, as did little Merla, but Pyro and Shredder kept their eyes on her.

"Shredder and Primrose have not earned their warrior names, but Pyro and Merla will soon be apprentices; as such, they should have Clan names," she continued. "Pyro, Merla, we recognize you both formally as cats of AshClan; you shall be known now and forever, until you become apprentices, as Firekit and Black-kit."

Firekit's amber eyes gleamed with ambition, but Black-kit looked wary of the attention; several warriors opened their mouths to call their names, but Silverstar held up her tail.

"We have a few more cats to name," she mewed. "Chill, would you come up here please?"

The white tom, sitting in the entrance to the medicine den, rose to his paws slowly. The wave of cats parted, allowing him through, and he sat at the bottom of the branch-pile, staring up at her with icy eyes.

"Chill, you are a member of AshClan now as well," she said. "It is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day forward, until you earn your apprentice name, you will be known as Chillpaw. I ask StarClan to watch over you and guide you until you find in your paws the strength and courage of a warrior." She stared down at her nephew, seeing the smallest glint in his eyes. "I will be your mentor," she said; a ripple of surprise ran through the gathered cats. "I learned much from all of BirchClan, and StarClan as well, and even the cats gathered here tonight," she continued, "and I will try to pass down all I have learned to you, young Chillpaw."

She reached down to touch his nose as he moved to touch hers; the slightest chill ran through her as their noses gently brushed, and she pulled back.

_Lion's touched him more than he wants to admit, _she thought, _but every cat deserves a second chance, and he is no different. I will do whatever I can to help him now._

Chillpaw stepped back, and Silverstar turned her gaze to Forest, seeing hope and joy rising in his own green eyes as he stared up at her. She flicked her tail to him, and he padded forward, almost kit-like energy rising in his paws.

"I, Silverstar, call StarClan to look down upon this cat. He has trained hard to learn the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn.

"Forest, do you promise to protect and defend your Clan and uphold the warrior code, even at the cost of your life?"

His eyes, newleaf-green, glinted gently as he mewed, "I do."

"Then, by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Forest, from this moment on, you will be known as Forestheart. StarClan honors your compassion and energy, and we welcome you as a full warrior of AshClan."

She lifted her head, allowing the cries of her Clan to ring through her ears as they chanted the new names of the Clan. Forestheart smiled up at her, his face alight with pride and happiness. She smiled down at him, a purr vibrating through her pelt.

_StarClan, we are complete now; I have built this Clan for you, made up of all four Clans and so much more….StarClan…have I done well?_

The slightest hint of ash on the breeze was her reply.

**. . .**

Stonestar stood in front of them, addressing the Clan; it was the first time he had done so since the battle, since he had told them that they had won and acted as true warriors.

He glanced to the side, at Rosedapple, sitting next to him; her silver fur was beautiful in the moonlight, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He glanced to the other side, seeing Rabbitleap sitting with her apprentice friends; her pelt was almost touching young Hawkpaw. He frowned, before tilting his muzzle back up towards Stonestar.

"My Clan," Stonestar rumbled; he could feel the leader's voice vibrating through his paws. "This speech is long overdue, I know that, and I apologize. As you know, everything has been very busy lately. We're buried many of our own this past few days."

He glanced to the side, seeing Hawkpaw and Icepaw had both lowered their heads; their father, Sandpelt, had been killed.

"However, take solace in that their sacrifices were not for nothing," Stonestar continued. "Their deaths brought new life and strength to our Clan, and we thank them for it. There are many ceremonies that are long overdue, and it is these that I shall perform tonight. Volepaw, Hawkpaw, Icepaw, come up here please."

The three apprentices' eyes widened, and slowly they made their way towards their leader; Rabbitleap's tail twitched with eagerness.

"I, Stonestar, call StarClan to look down upon these apprentices. They have trained long and hard to learn your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Volepaw, do you promise to protect and defend your Clan and to uphold the warrior code, even at the cost of your life?"

The ginger tom raised his muzzle proudly. "I do."

"Then, by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. From this day forward, you will be known as Volewhisker. StarClan honors your courage and honesty, and we welcome you as a full warrior of PeakClan."

Hawkpaw became Hawktalon, and Icepaw became Iceblossom; Rabbitleap was the first to yowl their names, a bit prematurely, but her father did not reprimand her.

He joined in, yowling the new warriors' names, before quieting as Stonestar raised his tail.

"There is another ceremony to perform tonight," he said, "one that is also overdue. Most of us do not remember that deputies are supposed to be named before moonhigh; I know I neglected this duty, to my regret, but the decision was not easy to make. However, now I am ready.

"I say these words before StarClan, that the spirits of our warrior ancestors hear and approve of my choice. The new deputy of our Clan is…Northstar."

His eyes widened with shock, and he turned towards Rosedapple; she gave him a bright smile.

"I…I can't," he whispered, his heart feeling like a stone. "You know…you know what I was. What I did. I can't be trusted with power. I don't want it."

Rosedapple's blue eyes were as clear as the greenleaf sky as she looked at him. "The fact that you realize that, and that you do not seek power," she whispered, "is exactly the reason that you're ready for this."

Northstar tilted his muzzle towards Stonestar, who was watching him expectantly. Then, slowly, he rose to his paws.

"I am honored," he said quietly. "I…I will serve PeakClan as best as I can. I will do whatever it takes to protect my…my Clanmates."

Stonestar gave him the smallest smile, and he felt his Clanmates eyes upon him. Slowly, he looked upwards, towards the gleaming stars that were just beginning to appear.

_Brackenheart? _He wondered. _Am I good enough to walk the skies with you now?_

He turned over his shoulder, seeing Rabbitleap and Rosedapple and Blackmoon and all of the others staring at him, hope and admiration glinting in their eyes, and somewhere within him he felt his own heart swelling.

He did not need a reply from the stars. He already knew the answer.

**. . .**

_The air hung heavily in the air; he curled his lip, tasting it. It tasted like nothing, as usual; the trees, the rocks, the water…nothing held any scent now. Everything was dead, frozen in place; there was nothing here. It was a place of nothingness, truly. No prey moved in this place, the Dark Forest; all he ever saw were cats, and he saw those rarely._

_He blinked up at the inky black sky, devoid of light, save for a single, blazing star; the north star. His lip curled, as the star reminded him of his enemy; he had looked into life once he had learned how from the other Dark Forest cats, seen how his rival had grown strong and prosperous, twisted by StarClan's touch._

_His fur bristled; his other rival, and his killer, Lion…Lion had not been so lucky. A smirk played over his dark muzzle; he did not know where Lion had gone, nor did he care. The golden tabby was dead, and that was all that mattered. According to the legends, he had simply disappeared; most rogues did not believe in an afterlife. Whether that was true for all of them, he did not know, but he did not care, either._

_He looked down at his paws, studying them; the first sign of fading had not yet appeared, but he was not surprised; he had lived a long, powerful, eventful life. He would be trapped here for a long time to come. There was the promise of salvation, of course, in the north star…but he would not lower himself to that level. He was Slaughter, leader of TalonClan, murder of dozens! He would not simply slink away into the darkness and disappear. No. A greater destiny, a powerful destiny…that is all he would accept. Even in death, AshClan and PeakClan would tremble from his power! He was learning things, many things, interesting things, from the cats who resided here in this forest…he could learn much by observing the other cats. Slaughter had been surprised to learn that there were indeed more Clans, but it didn't matter; once he dealt with AshClan, PeakClan, and whatever came of Tremor's control of the scraps of TalonClan, he could turn his focus to those other Clans. But right now, Silverstar's blood was all that he craved._

_A wind, neither cold nor warm, swept suddenly over his fur, and with it came a strange scent; the scraps of life. He turned his head, interest flickering in his cold eyes; the wind was a result of displaced air, a cat appearing where there had not been one before. Someone new had joined the Dark Forest._

_Whiskers twitching with interest, he rose to his paws, slinking forward; he had heard it was possible to steal life force from others, and if that was true, he would not rest until he knew the secret._

_Slipping into a crouch, he slunk forward, following the tantalizing scent, the only scent in this dead, empty world._

**. . .**

_She blinked slowly, staring ahead of her, blinking into the bright green leaves. Everything was perfect here; the sunlight was gentle, the breeze was soft, the scents fresh and bright, the prey tender and delicious. And yet…she was not happy. She had gotten here by the tips of her whiskers, she had been told; it didn't matter to her. Wherever she had ended up, she would not have been happy…because she was alone._

_Was Robin here? She didn't know. She didn't know what Robin had believed, or whether or not Robin could have been able to reach StarClan even if she had heard of it. If she had told Robin of her strange dreams, might Robin have found the faith to climb into the stars after death?_

_She did not know. Even if Robin was in StarClan, she wasn't with her now…she was alone, sitting here in this perfect forest with no one to keep her company. She was just as empty here as she had been in life…tortured, alone, terrified…until she had found Buck, or Bramblethorn as he was apparently called, and brought to the light to her eyes once more. And now she was here, alone, without even a name for herself. That much was true; she had no idea what she should be called now. Neither of her former names fit her any longer; she was not kind and gentle. She was not plagued by fear of pain and fear of being lost. She was simply…here. Waiting, for something, even though she wasn't sure what she was waiting for anymore. There was nothing she had to wait for now…perhaps Buck. No, Bramblethorn. The name was hard for her to remember; he would always be Buck to her. It was the name that defined him; she had no such name for herself._

_She found her heart aching in her chest; for seemingly no reason, her kits rose into her mind, all three of them. They were in good paws now, with Minnow, and yet…she wished she could be there for them, to nurture them, to take care of them…she wanted to teach them everything she had never been taught, to tell them everything that Mother had always told her, to nourish and protect them…._

Mother,_ she thought, the sorrow and loss washing over her as if it was fresh. Her ears flattened, and her head lowered slightly, as she let out the quietest sigh. Where did Twolegs go when they died? Not StarClan, surely, but didn't Twolegs have their own sort of faith? A place where Mothers could be young and happy and free? But how could Mother be happy without her beloved cats?_

Maybe that is where Robin went, to be with Mother…that was where she was happiest. Robin wasn't meant to live wild in the forest. She was a kittypet, through and through…but not me. I'm here, in this strange place, this StarClan...waiting for who knows what.

_A rustle to her left caused her to turn; no cats approached her here. Most cats did not like her; some were grateful for her saving Silverstar, but she didn't deserve their gratitude. She still didn't know if she had sprung at Lion to protect Silverstar, or avenge Blight's death._

_It was a tiny kit, blinking at her with wide green eyes, set in a dark face. _

"_Can you help me?" it whimpered; the kit was a she, small and timid._

"_Help you?" she echoed. "What is the matter? Where are your parents?"_

_Her ears flattened. "Not here. They're still alive. My mother just kitted, and I was alive, for a few breaths, but I couldn't catch up and I could feel myself floating away, and then…."_

_She glanced around uncertainly; someone else should be looking after this kit, not her. What was she supposed to do with it? She was in a secluded part of StarClan, where few cats treaded; the places where cats like herself, purposeless and lost, stayed. There was no one to help this kit here._

How many of them are there?_ She wondered. Kits like these? _Kits without parents even in StarClan? Kits who are confused, lost, scared? Who takes care of them? Who leads them home? Who tells them where they belong?

_She blinked into the kit's green eyes, and for a moment she felt her own heart open; this kit was young, very young; in life she would be only a few minutes old, but here in StarClan her body had changed so that she could at least enjoy her brief life. And perhaps she would continue to grow; there was no way to know._

"_Come here," she said quietly, and the kit stumbled towards her on unsteady paws. Gently, she wrapped her tail around the kit, holding her close. "I'll take care of you," she whispered to the kit. "I'll protect you, don't you worry."_

_The kit blinked up at her uncertainly. "What is your name?"_

_She hesitated for a moment; how could she answer? There was no answer, truly. She did not have a name._

But I do,_ she realized. _There are more kits around here, more kits that need me, if only briefly. To them, I can only have a certain name.

"_Call me Mother," she whispered, "for that is what I shall be until you no longer need me. And I will be a mother for all of these other kits as well, all of the lost and confused and hopeless, so long as I am here."_

_She could feel her heart beating gently as the kit snuggled against her, and she thought of her own Mother and smiled._

_I shall be for them what she was for me, she thought. I shall fill them with praise and love and care…so long as I live here, in StarClan. Mother is who I am._

**. . .**

He sat in the den, feeling as though he was off to one side, away from his Clanmates, huddled in his own den. He rested his broad head on his paws, staring out of the den, his amber eyes slightly misty.

Belladonna's lost weighed heavily on his heart, seeming to grow heavier with each breath he took.

_I looked for you, _he wanted to tell her. _I tried to find you. I tried to protect you. If you had just let me come with you, with Robin…I could have saved you both from all of this, saved everyone…none of this had to happen. But you had to be so headstrong and beautiful and amazing…if you hadn't been, Blight would have never wanted you. Why couldn't you be normal, Belladonna? Why couldn't you be willing to accept my help? Why did you have to be so…alluring?_

He swallowed, feeling as though his throat was closing up. Memories flitted through his mind, coming and going faster than he could pin them down.

_He was watching Belladonna as a young kit, his eyes wide, his pelt pressed against his mother's fur; he saw her tumbling in Mother's trash, pawing playfully at her young ginger friend, whose name he did not know._

_He saw her crouch, hunting, striking forward quickly to snare a mouse between her claws. Most cats simply ate Mother's scraps, or fought over what was left; not Belladonna. She took things into her own paws._

_And she protected those she cared about, as she fiercely clawed the feral tom that had tried to mate with her and Robin. The two of them fought against him, hissing and spitting, driving him away until he ran away screeching, never to be seen again._

Maybe that was when he had started to love her, when he had seen her fierce loyalty, her determination, her refusal to do as most she-cats would have done, allowed that tom to mate with her. He'd wanted to help her even then, to be her hero, to protect her from all dangers…but even then he had lacked the courage to ask.

He had never fought for a mate. He remembered the stares of she-cats and toms alike, wondering at his strangeness…but the only she-cat he had ever wanted was Belladonna, and she did not respect the toms that fought for she-cats, as if they were property. Some, like Queenie, who always seemed to be mothering new kits, worshipped toms that fought for mating rights; Belladonna couldn't care less about them. The only things she had loved were Robin and Belladonna.

He had never fit into that picture, even after Mother had died. There hadn't been a new space created in Belladonna's heart, one that he could fill; it had simply been an open, yawning hole, one that he could not get into.

It seemed that Blight had managed to worm his way in, somehow. Bramblethorn's lip curled with disgust; the very idea that such a cruel tom could have captivated Belladonna in any way sickened him.

_How could she give up that spirit, for any tom? _He wondered. _I wouldn't have taken it from her. I would have embraced it…or would I have been able to? All I wanted was to protect her…but she wasn't the type to except protection…._

He heaved a sigh, his heart feeling as broken as ever. He had followed these trails of thought through his mind more times than he could count, but they never led him to anywhere other than where he already was; lost, longing for her touch, her glowing eyes.

Would he even see her again, in the stars? Had she made it to StarClan, somehow?

His head rose, and he blinked, gazing up at the stars twinkling above him. Surely, somewhere, Belladonna was up there. Somehow, her spirit had to have managed to survive.

_And when I die, I will search for her, _he vowed. _And I will never stop searching, not until I find her. Not even if I have to leave StarClan's skies. I will never, ever stop looking for you, Belladonna._

**. . .**

_He could feel her fangs sinking into his flesh, as his last breaths gurgled in his throat. She seemed to bite right through those breaths, and he could feel his blood leeching away, soaking his fur. He struggled, but for once in his life, he was weak…there was nothing that he could do, he was floating away…._

_No. That had already happened. He was already dead. He was…he was…what was he? Where was he? What had happened?_

_He tried to open his eyes, but found that he could not. Panic did not rise within him, nor even anger; he felt strangely calm._

I couldn't complete my revenge, _was all he thought. _I took a life for Zig…for Blue…maybe for Tiger too, if she died of that wound…but my precious Clover, you…you I could not avenge…why? Why did I fail for you, only you? My love, my heart…you should have been safe, you should have been hiding, you should have had our beautiful kits…your death is all my fault, my fault, my fault…Clover, I'm so sorry….

_He suddenly heard a sound, the quietest sound, and this time when he tried to open his eyes, he succeeded. He could see nothing, only darkness; no, that wasn't true. Just ahead of him, just beyond his reach, there was the tiniest twinkle of light…light like…could it be…?_

_He took a step forward, pushing through the seeming paralysis. Then another step, and another, until he was racing forward, charging like a true lion towards the light. And the light seemed to swell and swell, until it flooded his vision, and he had to close his eyes or be blinded. And still he ran, running right towards it, right into it, this mysterious light. And as he broke through it, a breeze rushed over his fur, and he let out a soundless cry as the scent washed over him…as he smelled Clover's sweet, sweet scent._

**. . .**

He did not spend the night in the warrior den; instead he spent it in the nursery, with Ravenwing. There was plenty of room; Frostfeather was spending the night with little Robinkit, keeping her safe from all the dangers of the scary night, and Reedrush was with Jaggedclaw.

His muzzle pressed against Ravenwing's side as he stared down at their two kits; one of black, with Ravenwing's build, sleek and long-legged; he had white markings on his paws, chin, chest, and tail. The other was light gray splashed with darker gray, with one white paw and one dark gray paw.

He nuzzled her side gently; this was the first time since directly after her kitting that he had been able to spend any time at all with her.

"They don't even have names yet," she whispered to him.

"I know," he murmured. "I'm sorry. I've just been so busy…as deputy…."

Her green eyes glowed gently as she blinked at him. "We have time now."

He felt a tremor of fear run through him; he was not a cat that was normally afraid, but somehow the burden of naming his kits weighed on him; names defined a cat, shaped them forever.

"I want to name the tom Spiderkit, if that's okay," Ravenwing said, brushing her tail over the little black kit. "After that old tale, you know…the dark spider and his silver web that helped put the stars in the sky."

He nodded, remembering the tale from his kit-hood; he allowed himself to smile. "It is perfect. Spiderkit will have a great destiny, I know that."

"You name the other kit, she looks like you," Ravenwing purred, her green eyes glowing like twin flames. "Name her something good. She'll look up to her brave father, deputy of AshClan…she's going to be strong, just like her daddy…even though we nearly lost her…."

Ravenwing went rigid beside him, and he nuzzled her again; Ravenwing had lost one kit during the kitting, and apparently nearly lost this other kit as well. He thought for a moment, trying to come up with the perfect name.

His paw turned circles in the ash; some of it had blown into the den after the fire and storm, but the queens liked it for its softness. He stared down at the shapes he'd drawn; in the moonlight, they almost looked like little dapples….

"Sootkit," he said quietly, "for the soot and ashes left after the fire. We nearly lost her…but just like AshClan, she will come back bigger and stronger than ever before. She will be a force to be reckoned with. Their destinies will shape the forest."

His yellow eyes glowed with a strange sureness, an odd determination, and a smile spread over Ravenwing's muzzle as she looked down at her kits with pride.

"Spiderkit…Sootkit…their destinies will shape the forest."

**. . .**

She pressed her nose into his fur, her eyes closed, feeling his slow, rattling breaths. Each breath was tight with pain; even the poppy seeds couldn't quite keep him under. He drifted in and out of consciousness, never lucid, never recognizing her. Once, she had thought he had known who she was, but he had only whispered "Myrtle", before slipping away again.

Myrtle was his mate's name; that was all she really knew about the she-cat, besides that she had died giving birth to Jag's kits. The kits had all been stillborn.

_Funny, _she thought dimly, _I learned more about him those first few days than I ever did afterwards….The only time he was truly open with me was when we were still strangers. Doesn't he trust me? Or is he just too afraid to open himself up to a cat that he actually knows and cares about? Or…._

There was always that other possibility, the one she never wanted to think about. But it was possible, and it was there, gnawing at the back of her mind constantly. _What if he doesn't feel the way that I do? What if he doesn't want to tell me anything because he just doesn't care about me at all?_

She sighed quietly; she'd been running the same circles around her mind since well before Jaggedclaw was even hurt. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking at Rumble and Shimmerpaw; they were scurrying to redress his wounds, as usual. One half of his face was wrapped entirely in cobwebs.

She blinked at them anxiously; Jaggedclaw had been hovering between life and death for so long…it was as if he didn't yet know which side he was going to pick.

"Can you save him?" she whispered for the umpteenth time; she had never received a true answer before.

Shimmerpaw glanced at her, before looking up at Rumble questioningly; she quickly realized that he couldn't see the look, and nudged his side.

Rumble turned his blind eyes towards her. "Yes, Reedrush," he said softly, and her heart leaped, before she saw the sadness glittering in his vacant eyes.

"But?"

"But…I'm afraid he's going to lose this ear almost certainly, and probably the eye as well. His shoulder was badly damaged, probably beyond repair. His gait will always be lopsided, even twisted. Without one eye, he won't be able to climb trees or judge distances accurately."

The hope that had briefly sparked within her died, and she looked down at Jaggedclaw, her ears flattening.

_His strength…his power…his fighting skills…those were all he had, _she thought. _And now…they're gone, just like that…but how does a cat like him go on without them?_

"He'll never be a warrior?" she murmured.

"I don't think so," Rumble said gently. "I'm sorry, Reedrush. I know you two are close."

She glanced up at him, confused; he had only been here a few days. How could he know that?

His whiskers twitched, as if he could sense her puzzlement. "You've been here for days, hardly leaving except to fetch food and make dirt," he meowed. "And there's this…bond between you. It's hard to describe if you can't see it…one of the benefits of being blind is that you see things that others cannot. And you obviously care for him very much. And he cares for you. I believe that if you weren't here for him…he wouldn't still be alive, even with our efforts. You give him a reason to live, Reedrush."

She swallowed; their words seemed hollow. They didn't matter; nothing mattered now. Jaggedclaw would live, but he would be even more bitter, more withdrawn; he would be a burden to the Clan, and he would hate that. He would be miserable, alone, hating himself for his weakness….

He shifted slightly, as if sensing her thoughts; she leaned closer to him, wanting to comfort him but knowing there was nothing she could do. Then, he let out the quietest sigh, and her pricked ears caught a single word,

"Bullet."

Her eyes widened; bullet? What was that? Was it a cat? A place? An object of some kind? What did it mean?

_Did I even hear right? _She wondered, feeling confused. _I'm pretty sure I did…but what did it mean? What – or who – is Bullet?_

She blinked slowly. _This might be the first time he mentioned his past since he spoke of Myrtle…and he didn't even mention Bullet on purpose._

Her ears flattened for a moment; then, her green eyes narrowed as her gaze hardened. _Well, he won't be able to stop me now, _she thought bitterly. _I'm going to find out what this 'Bullet' is. And I'm going to uncover his past, all of it…I'm going to find Jag, the real Jag, and learn as much as I can about him. Because no matter what his past is like…I'll still love him. And I have to know. So long as he feels he has to keep these secrets, we can never…._

She sat up. _I won't be able to look for Bullet any time soon…not with Carmelo hanging around. But when that threat has passed, and whatever comes after that…I'm going to find Bullet. StarClan, I swear it. I am going to find this truth, no matter what._

**. . .**

He hummed quietly to himself, his quick paws sorting the herbs; he glanced to his left, seeing the many injured from the battle. Some of them he could save, some he could not, but he would give them all his attention and care, and if they were to go to StarClan, he would ensure that they passed peacefully and without pain. It was his duty.

A slight smile came to his muzzle; this was his destiny, his calling. He had been born to be a medicine cat, even though Graywing had filled that position for a short time. He would lay the foundation of loyalty for the next medicine cat; things would be changing in the Clan, he was certain of that. Old Clan traditions were coming to light under Stonestar's reign, and he would be there to support his leader as best he could. He would train his own apprentice to be loyal to StarClan, to do whatever it took to protect PeakClan, and to, above all, give up having a mate.

The thought made his icy blue eyes cloud for a moment; he glanced towards the entrance of the den. The Clan was asleep now; he was one of the few still working, but he imagined he saw the flicker of a silver pelt in the nursery.

_Rosedapple, _he thought softly, letting out a soft sigh, feeling the tug of longing. But he had given that up long ago, when he had committed himself to truly being PeakClan's medicine cat. And she was obviously happy with Northstar now; if Rosedapple was happy, then he was happy, even if it was still difficult for him to see her as simply a friend, rather than the one who made his pelt prickle, his heart flutter, his muzzle curl into a smile.

He turned away from the entrance, returning to his herbs, humming again quietly; this was how he spent most of his nights, sorting herbs and simply thinking; being a medicine cat was not a busy life, so he had plenty of time to sleep during the day.

Then, he went rigid as a strange scent entered the den. Puzzled, he turned, opening his mouth; there was no one there, but that made his puzzlement grow; the scent belonged to Graywing.

"Graywing?" he whispered, not wanting to wake his sleeping patients. "Graywing?"

"_Blackmoon," _she whispered in his ear. _"I have news for you. A chill is coming, one that shall settle over the entire forest, like the first frost of leafbare…like the first frost, it will kill everything, unless it is stopped…."_

"A chill?" he asked, but her scent was already fading. "Graywing, wait! What chill?"

Blazingfoot, one of his patients, stirred; he had a horrible gash down his side. "Blackmoon?" he rasped, and the medicine cat quickly padded to his side.

"Relax, Blazingfoot," he said softly; the warrior was barely clinging to life, it was obvious that he wouldn't be alive much longer. "Sleep, brother. Nothing's wrong."

Blazingfoot let out the quietest rumble; Blackmoon pushed a poppy seed into his paws with his tail, and the warrior obediently lapped it up, falling back into his slumber. Blackmoon sighed quietly, sitting beside his brother, resting his muzzle gently on his brother's flank as his breathing slowly faded.

**. . .**

_He gnawed on the mouse's bones; the flesh had been long stripped away, but he was not used to having so much free prey to fill his belly; his life in the mountains had been hard, and he had to keep reminding himself that he didn't have to eat the bones if he didn't want to. Still, gnawing on them was oddly comforting, like being home with FrozenClan; it was almost enough to make him forget that FrozenClan no longer existed._

_Neither did TalonClan, of course, according to what he'd heard. According to the celebratory yowls of StarClan, Lion had been defeated, even though Silverstar had lost two lives. He didn't really care either way; he hadn't even known Lion, had not even known that the golden tabby had killed Slaughter._

Because Toxin killed _me, he thought glumly. _What a fool I was…controlled by my overpowering lust….But at least I'm here, right? With Cinderstream? Even though she already has a mate that she loves, and two more kits that I didn't even know existed…even though she hasn't spoken to me since I arrived…._He swallowed. _I thought we had a bond, a connection, but ever since I came here, it's like I don't even exist.

_He sighed quietly, shuffling his paws; it wasn't that he didn't like being here in StarClan. No, that wasn't it; he enjoyed the soft sunshine and the rustling leaves and the abundant prey. He had even gotten his eye back; sometimes he found himself opening and closing it, marveling at the depth perception that he hadn't even realized he had been missing. Being in StarClan was great; being ignored by Cinderstream, the only cat he had really _loved _beyond a purely physical feeling…that was not so great._

_He smelled ash, and his lip curled with distaste as Cinderstream's mate's voice reached his ears. He didn't even know the gray tom's name, but that didn't matter; he hated him. Anger crackled over his pelt, but he forced himself to let out a quiet sigh; attempting to murder a StarClan cat would not go over well with the rest of them._

_He heard Cinderstream's beautiful, bright laugh, and his heart seemed to clench in his chest._

I know I did plenty of bad things in my life..things that I regret…which is the only reason I even made it here. But what does he have that I don't? I trained by her side, protected her, fought for her, dreamed of her…and yet all this time, while I thought she was probably dying somewhere, she was living with _him. _Raising _his _kits. How could she do this to me? She won't even look at me now!

"_Wait," he heard Cinderstream say. "I think I scent him, over here."_

"_Do you want me to give you a moment?" the tom's voice was soft, gentle, tender. He could feel more hatred welling up inside of him just by hearing how much the ashy-smelling tom loved her._

"_Please," Cinderstream said, and after a moment, the tom's ashy scent faded. He could hear the crackling of the undergrowth, as Cinderstream headed towards him. He kept both green eyes looking firmly in front, refusing to acknowledge her._

"_Snake?" she whispered; he hadn't taken back his old Clan name, not yet. He wasn't sure if it still defined him, or if he had become another cat, known only as Snake. _

_His gaze dropped to his paws, and he felt a strange sensation running through his pelt, almost as if underneath his thick fur he was aflame, burning with desire. He rasped his tongue over his muzzle, but nothing could quench the flame he felt just by being in her presence._

"_Snake," she said again; this time her voice was gentle and soft, and his pelt seemed to crawl. He was unable to ignore her any longer; he turned towards her, his green eyes burning into hers. There was sadness, even regret, flickering in her eyes; slowly, she came to sit beside him, almost close enough to touch. The prickling under his pelt intensified, but he would not touch her unless she wanted him to; he loved her, loved her so fiercely that he would do anything for her; he didn't want to force her into anything._

"_I missed you, you know," she said quietly. "While I was wandering."_

"_But you got over me pretty quickly," he growled; there was pain in his voice, and it felt like each word was tearing itself out of his chest._

_She shook her head. "It took me a long time to even trust Ashstir, let alone…but you're right. I love him. More than anything."_

_His heart seemed to clench; didn't she realize what she was doing to him, with each barbed word? As he glanced at her again, he could see that she _did _understand; she was doing this on purpose, trying to force himself to tear himself away from her._

To move on, _he thought, _because even now, she wants me to be happy.

_Gently, she reached out, her tail brushing his flank. "I love Ashstir, and I always will," she said quietly. "Nothing can ever come of us being together, Snake, not again."_

"_Nothing came of it before," he hissed. "Crowtalon still stole you away from me."_

"_That's not quite true," Cinderstream mewed; her eyes seemed even darker and more troubled as she blinked at him. "You see…you and I…that one time we mated, shortly before Crowtalon chose me as his mate, and…." She sighed softly. "I have two kits. Toxin was Crowtalon's, through and through. But the other…Reedrush…."_

_Snake blinked at her, confused; what was she saying?_

"_Reedrush has green eyes," she said finally, and his own eyes widened in understanding._

"_Blue eyes are rare," he croaked. "They could have come from you."_

_She nodded. "They could have. But Reedrush…she has your strength. Your determination. Your endurance. She's not calculating, like Slaughter…or vulnerable, like me…I think she has to be…."_

_His throat felt as though it was tightening. Was it possible? Could something truly have been created from their brief union?_

_Cinderstream slowly rose to her paws. "I just wanted you to know," she mewed. "You have the right to know. But Ashstir's waiting for me, I have to go to him."_

_Snake reached out with his tail, caressing her flank. "Stay with me. Please." His own voice was quiet, torn, and he could see the same pain reflected in her eyes before she turned away, padding away silently. She quickly disappeared into the brush._

_He bowed his heads, eyes closed, feeling as though his heart was tearing apart, as he lost her for the second time._

_Then, another scent caught his nose, and he blinked with surprise; Rainsplash, the she-cat who had cost him an eye. The memory of her silver pelt flickered through his mind. She was nothing like Cinderstream; she was fiery, spirited, fierce._

Maybe that's exactly what I need, _he thought. _Cinderstream wants me to move on, doesn't she? And…I don't like how things ended up, between Rainsplash and myself. I was lonely, missing Cinderstream…weakened by my own desires. But I'm in StarClan now…that's not the kind of cat I want to be. I should apologize, at the very least…and maybe later, if she's willing, we could talk….

_A slight smile curled his muzzle, as something else occurred to him._

After all, it's not like she can claw out an eye here.

**. . . **

_She felt the pain of Northstar's bite shoot through her body, screeching as everything dissolved into a red haze. Dimly, she could feel a gentle touch, almost motherly, but before she could push it away, she was torn from her body, her spirit floating away like a feather pulled by the wind. She let out a second screech, of anger and rage._

_Darkness swept over her, and she felt a breeze ruffle her pelt, before the air went strangely, eerily still. She shivered despite herself, slowly opening her eyes._

_An alien world stretched out before her; everything seemed sunken, colorless; the trees, the earth, the boulders all seemed to have been leeched of color, leaving them lifeless. She saw the reason for this as she looked up, blinking into the inky black sky; it was devoid of light, save for one sparkling star to the north. She frowned at the strangeness of it, before a strange feeling rumbled in her belly. It was almost like hunger…and yet less than that, not sharp enough to truly be called such. She touched her stomach with one paw, but the feeling did not lessen, nor did it intensify; it remained there, a grating feeling, dull but still painful in some way._

_She swallowed, feeling nervous._

It has to be a dream, or something, _she thought. _This place…it can't possibly exist. Why would a place like this be here? Why am I here?

_Her eyes widened with the realization of where she had come._

The Dark Forest, _she thought, feeling horror creep into her. _No! This isn't right, it can't be! I wasn't supposed to die! I was supposed to lead TalonClan, with Carmelo at my side!

_The thought of the handsome honey-colored tom, his golden eyes glowing gently, made her heart clench._

No, _she thought again, but the thought was weaker this time; there was no denying what had happened._

Then I'll undo it, somehow…find the way out. Yes, that's it. There has to be one, right? After all, the legends mention StarClan cats sometimes going into the Dark Forest…so there has to be a way out.

_She looked up again, seeing the glowing star. _Perhaps that way? _She wondered, her icy eyes narrowing. _Yes. I'll follow the star and find StarClan…from there, perhaps I can find a way to come alive again. I have so much to do still, so much to live for…this can't be the end of my story! I won't allow it!

_She took a step then, not knowing the threat approaching her; the very air was dead and skill, making her unable to scent the danger._

_She was knocked off of her paws almost instantly, rolling onto her side and held there with powerful paws. She went rigid with shock, then let out a hiss of anger – did this attacker know what he was dealing with? – before twisting to gaze upon her attacker. _

_Her eyes widened with shock; she recognized the icy blue eyes staring down at her._

"_Father," she whispered. "It's me, Toxin!"_

_Her father stared down at her coldly, his muzzle still twisted in a snarl. She saw the murderous gleam in his eyes, and felt her heart flutter with fear._

"_I'm your daughter!" she cried, but his expression didn't change._

"_You're a miserable failure, that's what you are," he snarled. "A traitor. Because of you, TalonClan is no more!"_

_She opened her mouth to defend herself, only to let out a gurgling cry as his fangs sunk into her throat. The pain seemed to lance through her body, but it was more than the silvery life force dripping from her neck as her father stepped away that pained her; the flame of betrayal seemed to burn within her, surging through her veins._

_Somehow, she found herself on her paws, her father watching her with slight surprise._

"_You should be too weak to stand," he growled, but she wasn't listening; using the last of her already fading strength, she sprang forward, claws outstretched, catching him on the side of his throat as she fell to the ground. She could feel her body fading, disappearing bit by bit, and she felt her heart pounding as fear overwhelmed her. She was dying in the Dark Forest; this was it, there was nowhere else to go._

_Her father was making a choking sound, staring with disbelief at his silver life force, which was disappearing before it even hit the ground. His blue eyes widened with fear and rage, and he let out a feral yowl, but it didn't matter, because she could no longer hear him, as she faded away piece by piece._

_The last thing she felt was the slight curl of a smile; if she was going to disappear, her father was coming with her._

**. . .**

He shivered, his tabby fur ruffling; it was nearly new-leaf now, but the forest didn't seem to care; it seemed utterly convinced that the nights were supposed to still be chilly and dark.

He licked his chest, ruffling his fur, then yawned; it would still be many hours before the sun rose and warmed his fur.

_Honestly, why'd you have to go and make yourself a warrior during leaf-bare? _He chided himself. _What were you thinking? You'll have icicles growing on the end of your whiskers at this rate, Forestheart!_

He let out a low purr despite himself; just the mention of his name seemed to warm him from the inside; he was proud of be a warrior of AshClan, now in the truest sense. He let out another purr, then shook himself; it really was cold, despite his pleasant thoughts and warm fur.

His ear swiveled as he heard approaching pawsteps; he glanced over his shoulder, wondering if this was another secret test of his standing-vigil skills. His gaze softened as he saw that it was Silverstar, her silver coat looking beautiful in the shining moonlight. Her blue eyes seemed to give off a gentle glow as she nuzzled him.

"It's cold out, isn't it?" she asked; he opened his mouth to reply, before remembering that he was supposed to be silent. He frowned at her, and her whiskers twitched.

"Okay, you passed that test," she purred, leaning against him; her pelt was warm as she pressed it against his, and he leaned in against her, comforted, her sweet scent filling his nose.

"You know," she murmured into his ear, "you're the only one standing guard tonight…no one but me will know if you go anywhere. And so long as you're with me…." The slightest smile curled her muzzle, and Forestheart blinked; was she implying what he believed she was implying?

"After all, Lion's dead," she meowed, leaning her head against his shoulder. "No one in this forest has anything to fear, except Carmelo, and it'll be some time before he has the forces or guts to challenge us again, with so many of his allies dead."

Her icy eyes glittered as she blinked up at him, and he could feel himself melted; he wanted nothing more than to succumb to her touch and her warmth. He pressed his nose into her fur, breathing in her scent; she smelled of rainwater and the first flowers of newleaf.

Slowly, she rose to her paws, pulling away gently, and his ears flattened at the sudden loss of warmth. She blinked at him, eyes glowing mischievously, before flicking her tail towards her den.

"What's a single vigil?" she purred. "The Clan never has to know."

Forestheart swallowed; there was nothing he wanted more than to rise to his paws and follow her into the yawning mouth of the den, to curl up beside her, feel her tongue, rasp his tongue over her fur, see her gentle smile as she blinked up with him. He swallowed again, whiskers trembling, torn between desire and loyalty.

Then, his ears flattened; as much as he might want to go with her, he had a duty as a warrior to finish this vigil, whether he wanted to or not. Wasn't that part of being a warrior, putting others before yourself?

He gave her a small shake of his head, flicking his tail towards the camp entrance, signaling that he could not leave his post.

To his surprise, her muzzle split into a delighted smile, and she pressed against him again, deep purrs vibrating through her body.

"A warrior through and through," she whispered into his ear. "Not that I had any doubt."

He blinked with surprise, realizing that he had passed another test, and licked her muzzle gently; she was so beautiful, her silver coat shining like starlight; there were a hundred things he wanted to say to her, but knew that he could not.

She pressed her muzzle against his. "I've got to go back to my nest; warriors aren't supposed to have company, of course," she mewed. "I just wanted you to know how proud I am, Forestheart, that you joined the Clan and earned your name…I love you." She gave him a soft lick, before rising to her paws and padding away. She disappeared into her den, with Forestheart's leaf-green eyes following her movements.

_I love you, princess._

**. . .**

His eyes were wide open, despite how late it was. He was trembling slightly, in spite of his valiant efforts to remain still, to close his eyes and drift off to sleep. But how could he sleep, with a monster in the den?

Slowly, his eyes were drawn to the side, and his throat seemed to close up as he glanced at her; Robinkit. Her ginger pelt, turned silver by the moonlight, rose and fell evenly; she was obviously asleep.

_But what if she isn't? _He thought anxiously. _What if she's just waiting for me to fall asleep, so she can attack me?_

Rumble had been unaware of his phobia, when he had moved both the injured kit and the terrified tom to another den, where the prey had previously been stored in preparation for the battle with Lion, to make room for Jaggedclaw and Reedrush. And every night, he had been here, trembling and not getting a wink of sleep, with the little ginger kit by his side.

His ears flattened against his head, and it was all he could do not to whimper. He felt a sudden surge of dislike for the silver medicine apprentice; _she _had known about his phobia, after all, but had said nothing of it to Rumble, and he himself had been too ashamed to say a word. It wasn't so bad in the day, when Rumble would let him walk around the camp and soak up the sunshine, but at night….

Robinkit made a noise in her sleep, and his golden eyes flicked to her, every hair on his pelt standing straight up. He watched her, but she did not move, and slowly the hairs lowered themselves.

He rasped his tongue over his whiskers anxiously, praying that morning would come so that he could catch up on his sleep without fear of the kit menace. And when a light pelt slipped into the den, he thought for a moment that it was the sun, and that his praying had done the trick.

One look at her green eyes told him that it was not the sun, but something far better; Frostfeather. She ignored him, heading for Robinkit, before abruptly stopping and glancing at him.

"Darkstorm, are you awake?" she hissed. His ears flattened.

"Maybe," he said, his voice an anxious whisper. She stared at him.

"Why aren't you asleep? Aren't you tired?"

All he could do was flick his tail towards the sleeping kit. Her eyes brightened with understanding, and for a moment her whiskers twitched with amusement.

"You're afraid she'll eat you, or something?"

He swallowed, feeling shame heat up his face, and he thought he saw pity enter her green eyes. She sat down, staring at him, looking uncertain.

"Why didn't you say anything to Rumble? Or Shimmerpaw?"

All he could do was shrug; the shame made it feel as though his face was on fire.

"Why are you here?" he meowed, not wanting to speak of his own shortcomings any further.

She glanced at Robinkit. "I don't know…I just felt anxious. I wanted to make sure she's okay. I spend time with her during the day, but I know she's lonely…no kit should have to go to sleep without their mother, but I've got Jaykit and Redkit and Bluekit depending on me…." She cocked her head to one side. "Are you trembling?"

He would have closed his eyes so that he didn't have to see her pity, but doing so would leave him open to attack if Robinkit really had been faking being asleep. Instead, he stared at her, his golden eyes wide and sorrowful.

"I didn't think it was that bad; you saved her during the fire, remember? Carried her all the way to the Pool of Stars."

The memory of Robinkit's fur in his mouth send a wave of revulsion running through him, and for a moment he feared he would be sick. "Don't remind me, please…."

Her whiskers twitched again. "Please, huh? That's a first, coming from you. And you haven't hit on me at all yet; you must really be feeling bad."

He stared down at his black paws. "You didn't want me to do that anymore right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but I didn't think you'd ever actually listen."

"But that's what you want, isn't it? A tom that will listen to you? You told me that, a long time ago…so I thought I'd try it, listening…." His ears flattened, and her eyes gleamed with interest.

"You didn't change your behavior after I spoke to you. Why the change of heart?"

His ears flattened. "Well, on the battlefield…Silverstar saved me when I was fighting two cats. But right after that, two more ganged up on me…you can see the results for yourself." He flicked his tail over his cobweb-studded pelt. "And there was a point where I actually thought I might die…I was terrified…and I thought over my life, all of it, and how I've always bounced from one place to the next...mates are supposed to respect you, you know, and no one ever respected me…I didn't deserve it. But I thought if I had a mate that maybe that would change, so I tried to impress the she-cats I met, but it never worked…and some of them hated me…." He blinked at her guiltily. "And then I remembered what you said, about not wanting to be loved just because you were pretty, or because a tom thought you had to be taken care of. You just wanted to be listened to. And I think, at that moment…I kind of got it. I understood. And so I haven't spoken to you since then, because I didn't want to make that mistake again…." He trailed off awkwardly.

Frostfeather was quiet for a moment. "That's very sweet," she said finally; he dropped his gaze to his paws.

Then, with surprise, he heard her move, and suddenly she was lying next to him, her pelt pressed between him and Robinkit.

"You look cold," she said quietly; he stared straight ahead, his pelt prickling furiously as her scent drifted into his nose; those lustful thoughts were all coming back, and it was all he could do not to open his mouth and let something crude fly out.

"I appreciate it," she meowed. "The…listening thing, I mean. It really is sweet…but listening is only half of it, you know? A good conversation requires two cats…and I don't think we've really ever spoken…I mean, you were always saying that sort of stuff and I was always hissing at you…I don't think we've ever really _talked._" He could feel her gaze on his face, heating up his fur. "So let's talk."

His jaw was clamped shut, still holding back all of his shameful lines; Frostfeather was quiet too, and for a moment he thought she might have fallen asleep as well, before she surprised him by speaking yet again.

"Here's something I could never figure out," she said. "You're terrified of kits…but you pursue she-cats. And if you ever managed to catch one, it would lead to a rather inevitable end. And that end could, in turn, lead to kits…and then you'd be a father. Didn't you ever think of that? What would you do?"

"It would never get there," he said quietly. "I mean, for one, I would probably never managed to get a she-cat to like me…and then even if I did, we could never…I couldn't…I mean, I would want to. Those things I say are true, you know, I do have those…feelings. But I couldn't act on them. I couldn't ever be a father."

"So why do it at all? It sounds like you're torturing yourself."

"Like I said…if you have a mate, they'll respect you…and that's really just what I want. Because if someone respects me, then maybe other cats will too…and I won't be a loser anymore…I'll be, you know…important."

He felt more shame, mixed this time with just a hint of misery, course through him; he could only imagine what Frostfeather was thinking now, how pathetic she must imagine him to be.

"You are important," she said quietly. "You're important to the Clan; you're a warrior."

"Yeah, but it's not like I can mentor anyone; I'm still kind of scared of them when they're six moons old," he meowed. "And I'm a lousy hunter and a worse fighter…."

"You don't have to mentor apprentices to be important," she argued. "And you aren't a bad hunter. Remember that crow? You caught it."

"It was a fluke."

"And in the battle? You said you were fighting two cats at once, twice! A lousy fighter wouldn't have survived that."

"Silverstar helped me the first time…and the second time, it had to have been luck…."

She was glaring at him now. "Quit putting yourself down, Darkstorm. Your name even conveys power. The second part, storm…that's for strong, loyal cats. That's what Silverstar sees you as. That's how the Clan sees you."

His ears pricked, and he blinked at her. "Strong? Loyal?"

_I'm not strong, _he thought. _And loyalty…this is just the first place I've been accepted in for more than a moon. Why would I leave, unless they kicked me out?_

She nodded, green eyes burning. "You've changed a lot since you joined the Clan; you're bigger now, stronger, and you saved my Robinkit, despite your fears. You may not have conquered them, but you put up a good fight at the very least! You fought as bravely as any other warrior during the battle, and once you're healed you'll be hunting for the Clan. You're not useless! Cats respect you here!"

He felt a slight warmth, like a flame had kindled itself within him._ Cats…respect me?_

"You don't need a mate for that, any of it," Frostfeather said. "You don't have to prove yourself to anyone here. And you've changed beyond just the physical aspects…like you said, you tried listening to me, more than before. That's important, too." She seemed to hesitate for a moment; then, gently, she licked his muzzle, long and slow. He felt as though he was igniting under her touch, and he was trembling again, but this time it wasn't from fear or cold.

Her eyes were glowing now as she looked at him, and she licked him again. He breathed in her intoxicating scent, feeling lulled and safe.

Then, the familiar hardness in her green eyes set in. "Sleep," she ordered; he glanced at Robinkit, and she flicked her tail against his muzzle. "You need your rest; you can't heal by lounging around the camp all day, sleep-deprived. Go on." She gave him a small smile. "I'll be here to protect you, okay? No one's going to hurt you while I'm around."

He blinked at her, then smiled. "Thank you," he said quietly. Then, slowly, he forced himself to close his eyes, every hair on his pelt aware of Robinkit's closeness; then, the awareness changed to a different sort, as he felt Frostfeather's tongue slide over the back of his ear.

Before he knew it, he was drifting away, her scent following him into his dreams.

**. . .**

He stared ahead of himself, even though his eyes could not see. He was nervous; StarClan had just delivered unto him a warning, and given one to Shimmerpaw as well.

_A chill is coming, _he thought, turning his muzzle slightly towards his apprentice; she was sleeping again, but he could not, his worried thoughts keeping him soundly awake. _It must be about Chillpaw…what else could it be? My…senses don't work on him like they do with others cats. Generally I can get a sort of feeling for others, but with him…it's blank. Empty. Nothingness. I can't feel the emotions that drive him at all. It's like they're completely absent, or at least well buried…it's worrying. _

_But Silverstar believes in second chances, and that is not a belief that can be changed until it is proved wrong, broken. Although I fear if her belief is broken, by Chillpaw or any other cat, then she herself might also crumble..._

He sighed quietly; being a temporary medicine cat was a heavy burden to bear; he wasn't even sure he would be around long enough to see Shimmerpaw as a medicine cat. He could feel it, the disease that had made him so small and stolen his sight, still lurking within him; it was waiting to strike again, and the next time it did he would be unlikely to survive.

_I lied, brother, _he thought, thinking of Tremor. _I do not think we will see each other again…even if I survive the disease coming back, I could never brave the mountains to find you…._He sighed quietly. _All that I can hope is that my faith in StarClan has brought faith to you as well, and that we will join each other in the stars someday._

His blind gaze drifted to Jaggedclaw and Reedrush; he could hear the tom's slow, ragged breaths.

_He'll survive, so long as he doesn't catch some other disease, _he thought, _but I'm not sure he will want to._

His thoughts turned back to the prophecy. _The chill doesn't have to be Chillpaw, _he thought, clinging on to some small hope. _Perhaps it's simply another disease…greencough, or something like that. We've been blessed not to have had any this leaf-bare. If it's a disease, it is probably treatable, and a crisis could be averted, perhaps…._He rose to his paws slowly, padding over to the herbs, sniffing them. He knew he was probably clinging on to false hope, but a betrayal from Chillpaw, Silverstar's kin…that was unthinkable for the Clan.

Slowly, he ran his paws over his herbs, thinking.

_If a disease is coming, perhaps I can get ahead of it; perhaps that is why StarClan contacted us, _he thought, selecting a small, round berry and a rough leaf. _If I can find the right combination of herbs for every symptom I can think of…that and training Shimmerpaw will be a worthy use for my final days._

_StarClan, please let me have enough time left._

**. . .**

She yawned, rolling to the side in her half-awake state, pushing another warrior as she did so. She mumbled an apology, rolling back into her own nest, before realizing that she had drooled a bit on her paws.

The cold sliminess was enough to wake her up further, and she stared down at them in disgust, wrinkling her nose.

She yawned, then blinked, feeling oddly awake, almost buzzing with energy, and she sighed quietly; her hyperactivity meant that if she was somehow pulled out of sleep, it was difficult for her to fall back asleep again.

She didn't have the patience to wait; surely dawn was coming soon, and she could be on the morning patrol. Slowly, she rose to her paws, padding out of the den; she was heading towards Stonestar's den to ask about the patrol, before stopping short; she frowned as she blinked at the camp entrance, seeing only one cat sitting there. It was wrong, but her sleepily fuzzy brain couldn't work out why for a moment.

_Where are Volewhisker and Iceblossom? _She wondered, and trotted towards the tom – _Hawktalon, _she thought with a smile; she liked his new name.

"Where are they?" she asked; he blinked at her mutely, and she frowned as she remembered he couldn't talk. "I won't tell anyone, I promise, if you speak," she meowed, but he remained silent, his yellow eyes glittering at her in the moonlight. She pouted, sitting beside him. "Are they gone to…spend some time together? Since you're the only other one awake?" she asked. Hawktalon glanced at her; then, slowly, he nodded.

She felt a slight pang, thinking of Volewhisker; why had he chosen Iceblossom, of all cats? She was pretty, sure, but underneath her prettiness, "ice" fit her rather well.

_Maybe he sees something more than an icy, mean, sharp-tongued snob, _she thought, _although I don't know how he does…although I guess he sees more to me than a hyper, impulsive, thoughtless kit-brain, since we're friends._

Hawktalon gave her an apologetic look, and she flushed, realizing that he felt sorry for her.

"It's fine," she said, and then, without thinking, blurted, "I mean, it's pretty much just the same for me as it is for you, right?"

His eyes clouded with pain, and she winced.

_Comparing you pining for Volewhisker while he's off with Iceblossom, to him wanting you while you're pining for Volewhisker; good going, idiot!_

"Sorry," she said quietly. "That sounded a lot less…awful in my head."

He didn't look at her; his gaze was focus stoically on the horizon. Feeling awkward, she wanted desperately to retreat back to her den, but knew she couldn't; there was pain gleaming in Hawktalon's eyes, and that was the last thing she wanted.

She sat down beside him. "If they get back in time, are you going to tell Stonestar?"

Without looking at her, he shook his head. She nodded. "I knew you wouldn't. You're a good friend. I don't really deserve you…I'm a total mousebrain. I'm sorry, really. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I just blurt stuff out sometimes, without thinking…I do that sort of stuff all the time, you know, like being up right now…I know I shouldn't be, but I am, and I'll regret it tomorrow when I'm bone-tired and all, but right now it seems perfectly fine. That's how it always is with me, everything seems great when it happens but then right afterwards I'm always guilty and wish that I could take it back and I can't and that just makes it worse." She clamped her jaw shut, cutting off her wild babbling. "Sorry," she said again, after a brief pause.

Hawktalon was rigid for a moment; then, slowly, he glanced at her, his eyes gentle, and she knew that she was forgiven. But, somehow, that only made it worse.

_I don't deserve a friend like him, not at all, _she thought miserably. _He's always tried to protect me, even when we were little, and I just keep doing this sort of thing over and over…I'm like the worst friend ever. No, even worse than that. I'm like the…the Lion of friendships! Yeah, that's what I am! And I hate it!_

She stiffened as she realized that Hawktalon had touched her with his tail. He was frowning at her; even now, he didn't want her to feel bad. And, of course, it made the feelings worse.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed. "I'll go now, okay? I shouldn't have come over here at all, it was wrong of me, and I'm sorry. Tell Volewhisker and Iceblossom when they get back that I said high but of course wait for the vigil to be over because I don't want you breaking any rules or anything and I'm sorry!"

And with that, she rose to her paws, ready to spring away. But Hawktalon was standing now as well, still frowning at her. He nipped her on the flank, then shook his head.

"I shouldn't be sorry?" she asked, and he nodded. "But I am! And I can't help it! I just feel so awful for you because I know that you like me and you're always trying to protect me and you sprang at those AshClan warriors for me and everything, and you blame myself for my tail thing when it was my fault you almost died to begin with!"

Slowly, he reached out with one paw, tapping one of her front legs, and then the other.

"Yeah, I know you couldn't protect me when I fell from the cliff, and you probably feel awful about it, but it wasn't your fault! I was angry and stupid and my balance is horrible and so I fell and—" She broke off again, as he touched her stubby tail with her own.

"Yeah, if I had a tail I probably would have better balance…but it doesn't mean that I wouldn't have still fallen. I probably would have. And…maybe my legs wouldn't have been injured so badly, because I could have turned better and landed better with a long tail…but that's still not your fault."

He nodded, and she shook her head at him. "No, furball, it's not! It's completely my fault! I went with Volewhisker on his mouse-brained schemes, because he thought it was a good idea to send a poor kit to go fight a badger and I thought if he thought it was good then it was okay, but it wasn't! It was horrible! And it was his foxdung-brained fault, and mine too!"

She broke off, eyes widened at the venom in her voice; but it wasn't directed towards Hawktalon. It was towards herself, and Volewhisker too, for nearly causing a fellow Clanmate to die. Her ears flattened suddenly, and she stared down at her white paws, remembering. Back then, everything that Volewhisker had done had seemed right and just…but now she could see it, could see how his actions had nearly killed Hawk-kit and herself; she could see his flaws, his arrogance, his lack of foresight. And even though he was her best friend, he wasn't…perfect. Not like she had idolized him as being. He was just another cat, like any other warrior…and he had the right to be happy, even if it was with stuck-up Iceblossom.

She blinked at Hawktalon, and saw his eyes gleaming with concern. "Is that all what you meant to say?" she asked slowly, and he nodded.

_All he had to do was flick his tail, and I understood everything, _she thought. _A few nods of his head, and suddenly…suddenly Volewhisker isn't so important anymore._

But had he really been that important before? Yes, there was that slight tug when he had been with Iceblossom as apprentices; there had been that pain when it was clear that he preferred the prettier she-cat over her, even though he liked her just fine as a friend. But over the last few moons – even before Hawktalon saved her from the AshClan cats – hadn't that pain been dimming, just slightly?

She stared at Hawktalon, and it felt as though she was looking at him for the first time, seeing him for the handsome, noble warrior that he was instead of the whiny, courageous little kit he had once been, just as she was seeing Volewhisker for who he really was, instead of some perfect being. And she felt the slightest fluttering in her chest, nothing like the tug she felt while looking at Volewhisker. And she blinked, realizing that through a few simple movements, Hawktalon had communicated more to her than Volewhisker ever had.

"Hawktalon," she said quietly. "I think…I mean, I feel…you know how I just told you I was impulsive and everything? That I felt best in the moment, and afterwards I kind of…regret things?"

He was watching her now, his yellow eyes glowing just slightly.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here," she said slowly, "and…and for once, I don't think…I don't think I'm going to regret this. Because I'm already sort of starting to regret mooning over Volewhisker…because…I don't know, maybe my vision's suddenly grown sharper tonight or something. But I think…I think that I…I think that I kind of love you."

Hawktalon's eyes glowed brighter, like twin suns. "I love you too, Rabbitleap," he meowed, grinning from ear to ear. Surprised, Rabbitleap looked up, and smiled as she saw the first streaks of dawn splashed over the sky.

**. . .**

It was amazing to him how stupid these Clan cats were. Forestheart's eyes were fixated on the camp entrance; he had no idea what was going on behind him. The only other apprentice in the Clan was Thistlepaw, and he snored louder than a Twoleg monster; no one had been him slip out of camp.

But he had done so, leaving snoring Thistlepaw and fixated Forestheart behind, and he had wandered through the forest, enjoying his last taste of freedom; after all, he had a new name now, and all the responsibilities that went with it. And he had wandered far and wide throughout the territory, as the night had progressed, growing slowly darker and darker. And just when it had been at its darkest, he had found his way here, to the battlefield clearing.

The clearing was dotted with slightly raised mounds; he had known they were graves. And he had known which one belonged to Lion; it was the biggest by far. And he had padded over to it, sat down beside it, and stared.

And he was still staring at it even now, as the night slowly lightened.

He wasn't sure why he was there; Lion was dead, his spirit had fled his body to wherever it was that spirits actually went. He had no idea where they would go, if they even still existed. He didn't care if they did or if they did not; there was no way to know until you were dead yourself, and by then it was too late to change your course for another.

His paws had been set on this course from the moment that his mother had chosen him simply by chance, over Shimmer.

He continued to stare down at Lion's grave, feeling as numb as ever; then, an image entered his mind; Lion, staring down at him for that first time, tenderness glowing in his eyes. And another came – Lion's slightly twisted expression in the middle of the night, while he slept as Chill remained awake, encompassed by his fur – and another – Lion, battered and bloody after single-pawedly killing the badger that had killed Chill's own mother – and another – Lion crouching, showing him how to stalk a mouse – until he was overwhelmed by them, hundreds of images and memories flying through his mind more quickly than he could latch on to them. And always, always, there was that tenderness and warmth as he looked down at his supposed son, his precious Chill.

He felt a strange, almost alien sensation in his chest; for a moment, he was afraid, thinking that some sort of parasite had found its way inside of him, but it only took him a moment to realize that this was not a physical thing. And yet it _felt _like one, as it squeezed his heart and made his breath rasp: sorrow, maybe even a bit of regret.

_He died to avenge his family, _Chillpaw thought, _but also to protect the only family that he had left._

He bowed his head, just slightly, closing his eyes; for a moment, still in sorrow's grasp, he didn't care whether spirits were real or not.

_Lion, I'm sorry, _he thought. _I'm sorry I lied to you. I was not Clover's son. But…I am yours. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure you are avenged. I will balance the scales, Lion, I promise. Just as I told you before…a life for a life._

His head rose, and gently he reached out with one paw, touching the dusty top of Lion's grave; and slowly, he felt the sorrow ebb away, leaving him as frozen and numb as ever.

His head rose, and he blinked, seeing dawn casting itself over the sky; a breeze stirred, and he opened his mouth to catch it.

For a moment, the breeze almost tasted of ash.

**AN: Hinty hint; the cats aren't all named, but they appear in the orders of their FIRST POVs throughout the story, beginning at the prologue. So we start with Silverstar, and end with Chillpaw; nice and neat. **

**I couldn't change Forest's prefix. It just wouldn't be right, y'know? Normally I don't agree with using Forest as a prefix, but in his case…Forest is Forest. D:**

**As we saw in Rabbit's chapter and her one-shot (read it if you haven't already, it's titled 'Take Your Best Shot', Volepaw/kit was a good reader of other cats, and a good manipulator when he needed to be (especially with Hawk-kit). He's sensitive to emotions and a good tracker (when he tracked Hawk-kit) which is why his name fits. The others are pretty self-explanatory. **

**I'm not gonna touch the rogue afterlife at this moment. Maybe they have one (Lightning's parents from Snatched made it to StarClan somehow) or maybe they don't (Scourge and Tadpole both faded in my canon) or maybe only certain cats have some other afterlife that we haven't explored. I've no idea, and I don't intend to form one, so believe what you like about Lion's fate.**

**We've seen Bullet before. You probably don't remember him.**

**Also, Volewhisker and Iceblossom got caught sneaking back to camp when the dawn patrol went out, after Hawk's vigil ended. Just so you know. ;)**

**Longest. Epilogue. Ever. But a fitting way to end a story with so many characters speaking throughout it, don't you think?**

**EDIT: This story was recently reported because in the old format the final AN was its own chapter. Allow me to remedy that by combining the two.  
**

**AN: Yes, yes, the final AN, as always. Sure, I have a blog now, but who cares? This is a tradition, darn it!**

**Anyway, Shattered is officially over…and might I say, it's been quite a ride! At the time of writing this, Shattered is easily the longest fic on the entire site, and I'm proud to have written it. And you should all be proud to, to have dared embark on such a journey with me! I don't think I say this often enough, but THANK YOU, reviewers. The only reason these stories exist is because you all take the time to click that button and make me feel loved.**

**Now, although I said this before I'll say it again; I am writing the sequel, Chilled, and when I post that prologue any and all questions about this epilogue will be answered on my blog, so everything is wonderful and normal again for you guys.**

**However, said prologue might be awhile coming. This is partly because I need a little time to rest (you aren't gonna begrudge me that, are you? D:) and partly because I've got a lot of real-life work to do; finals and junk. Just know that I have not abandoned you!**

**Also, the compare/contrast thing will be on the blog soon, I'm not sure when; it just depends on whether or not I have time. It'll be in a separate post from the rest of the questions and stuff, just to make it easier on everyone.**

**Now, about the story itself; all I have to say is that if you have not written a story with more than five POVs in it (Shattered boasts SIXTEEN, if I counted right), DO IT. It's really an incredible experience, to see how many tones and characters you can explore. I mean, make sure it makes sense, how the POVs flow and all, but at least give it a try. It's incredibly fun, if a bit confusing (make an Excel doc to keep track of your timeline, that's how I survived), and extremely valuable for writers, in my opinion. Some will be harder than others (Lion, for example, was really hard to write for, versus Northy, who just slid perfectly off of my fingers).**

**Anywho, I'm drawing a blank, so that's all I've got to say for the moment. Please hang on for Chilled, and tell me what you thought of the epilogue, and story as a whole! I love you guys!**


End file.
